Sometimes you just don't know
by SunshineCountess
Summary: Sometimes you just don't know why and how things happen and sometimes you don't even know that they could... Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes meet a girl at the post office. Mr. Carson could not figure out why he felt like his past had caught up with him. No real spoilers. Lots of Edith moments as well.
1. Chapter 1: June, 1922

_Hi all. First ever fanfic. Characters belong to the genius Julian Fellows. Please review, advise, politely criticize. Whatever rocks your boat._

**Chapter 1: June, 1922**

"Mr. Carson, I'm going to the village later in the morning. Is there something I can get you?" Mrs. Hughes looked up from her breakfast plate. "Mr. Carson, are you quite alright?" she asked when he did not answer immediately.

"Yes, thank you Mrs. Hughes, I'm perfectly alright." He lied.

"Well, Mr. Carson, you didn't answer my first question." Mrs. Hughes was still looking at him, now with a little frown.

"Uuhm, I think Mrs. Hughes, if you don't mind, if you can hold off until after luncheon I'd like to go with you."

Her face brightened considerably at this, "I have a few things to short out. I'm sure it can keep me busy until after luncheon."

"Good. Thomas can keep the fort until we get back."

With the luncheon behind them and all the servants fed and well on their way with their chores again, Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson walked to the village. Thomas was all too keen to play lord and master until they came back.

"Mr. Carson, are you sure everything is all right?" Mrs. Hughes could not stand the heavy silence anymore. She knew what bothered him, but she wanted him to tell her.

"No, Mrs. Hughes, I cannot get over what Ms. O'Brien had done."

She sighed. "Me neither."

Anna and Mr. Bates had investigated the phrase Thomas had given to Bates. The storm that it had unleashed was even worse than when Bates was incarcerated, but in the end Her Ladyship had been gracious towards O'Brien and only let her go without a reference. The reference part had been the Dowager's work. It has been three months ago. Alfred, naturally, took it worst of them all, being O'Brien's nephew. He still got letters from time to time and they all tried to act normally around him.

"I know I've said it a million times, but it is above my head that someone can work with you so closely and carry such a secret."

"Well, I believe Ms. O'Brien had repented, she was just too late to stop her…"

"Don't you dare justify what she had done!" He scowled at her.

"I'm not justifying her, Mr. Carson. I'm just not going to fester over something that can't be changed."

"I'm not festering," he pouted.

"I'm not saying you are, but you have to let it go, Mr. Carson." She put her hand on his wrist to stop him. They had reached the village and she wanted to finish the conversation before too many people could hear them. There was no need to stir up the demons of gossip again.

He looked at her hand and then at her face.

She took a deep breath. "I don't want you to cling to this. She was a dark horse, sure enough, and she had her mean streak, but I truly think that she was sorry for what she had done. She tried to ask for forgiveness the time her Ladyship had the Spanish flu."

"What! How do you know that?"

"She told me. The night she came to say good bye."

"That's boll…" He stopped mid-sentence and blushed. Carson never swore, at least not in her presence.

"That does not excuse what she did."

"No, Mr. Carson, it does not. Her past caught up with her, but I'm just saying that we should not lose out of sight the fact that she was sorry. She will pay for it the rest of her life by not having a decent job, and being alienated from all her family, so I'll not make it worse by forgetting that she was sorry."

He sighed, "Sometimes, Mrs. Hughes, I think you are a saint or an angel sent to Earth to make me feel unworthy and inhumane."

She laughed and patted his arm. "Nonsense, Mr. Carson. You bluster and scold, yes, but that does not make you inhumane." Just rigid and formidable, she thought.

They set out to the post office and she changed the subject.

"I wonder where we are going to get another lady's maid for her Ladyship." Mrs. Hughes had come to the village to post another advert. The previous one was let off when she was found to pocket the soap from Lady Grantham's quarters.

"I don't know," Mr. Carson said as he held open the post office door for her. "Her Ladyship does not trust anyone at this stage."

"With good reason, but nonetheless, she need's someone to look after her," she said and went to stand in the queue. They kept quiet for a while. The post office was the hub of gossip next to the grocer's shop.

There was a woman in front of them. They waited for her to finish. When she was done with her business, she turned around. She smiled apologetically at them. Mrs. Hughes heard a strange noise, like breath sucked in too fast resulting in a cough. She looked up at Mr. Carson. He was spluttering on his own spit. "Mr. Carson! What's the matter?" she asked horrified, because he had gone the colour of ash as well.

"It's nothing, Mrs. Hughes. The air just went down the wrong way."

The girl had stopped dead. "Can I help?" She turned around to the postmistress. "May I have a glass of water?" The postmistress beckoned to one of the post boys and he ran for a glass of water.

They sat Mr. Carson down on one of the benches. He was still white in the face. "I am perfectly well, thank you!" he shouted.

"You are not, Mr. Carson." Mrs. Hughes looked at him sternly. "What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Here you go, Sir." The girl was holding a glass of water. He stared at her with an utterly befuddled expression on his face.

Mrs. Hughes took the water from her. "Thank you, Miss." She held the glass to Mr. Carson saying, "It's just water, Mr. Carson, although I dare say by the looks of you, you need something stronger."

He took the water and gulped it down. "There. I'm right as rain." He stood up and pulled himself to his fullest height. "We can carry on now, if you don't mind."

Mrs. Hughes and the girl exchanged confused glances. "Thank you, Ms…?"

"Oh!" the girl exclaimed, "How improper of me. Ms. Burke-Davies." She held out her hand.

"Pleased to meet you Ms. Burke-Davies. I'm Mrs. Hughes and this is Mr. Carson."

"A pleasure." She took up her bag, "I must be off now. Are you sure you're alright now, Mr. Carson?"

"Perfectly." he said.

The rest of the trip went by in a daze. All the while Mrs. Hughes could not figure out why Mr. Carson looked like he had seen a ghost and Mr. Carson could not figure out why he felt like his past had caught up with him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: June, 1922 (Part two)**

_The chapter is quite a bit longer than the last. I have a fair idea where this is going, but please let me know if you want me to continue. As always, characters belong to the genius JF._

It was dinner as usual, but Mrs. Hughes wanted to make sure if it was Carson as usual. She met him in the upstairs pantry. He looked like himself again, so she breathed easier.

"Mr. Carson, do you mind if I check the desert service quickly?" she whispered

"No, go ahead, Mrs. Hughes." He whispered back.

While she was pretending to check the service he came and went with the wine, ever the formidable butler of Downton, but she still could not forget how ashen he had looked when he saw that girl. If it were any other man that had spluttered like that, she would not have thought twice about it, men were men, after all, not that Mr. Carson is not a man, but still…. He is not _that _kind of man.

"Shall I make us a cup of tea? After dinner?"

"Yes, I think so." He smiled briefly before returning into the room.

"Mama," Edith was saying. "I'll be going to London tomorrow."

"What, again?" Her mother looked suspicious.

"Yes, I have business there," she simply stated.

"Yes, we know, dear." The Dowager piped up.

"Granny, it's not like that!" Edith looked shocked at her Grandmother's implying tone of voice.

"So you keep saying." She retorted.

Edith rolled her eyes. She was not going to retaliate. "Anyway, Papa, I've asked Pratt to run me to the station. Can you spare him to come and fetch me again at eight o' clock tomorrow evening?"

"My, but that will be a quick business trip." The Dowager grumbled.

Lord Grantham glared at his mother. "Yes, Edith, I can spare him."

"Should we keep your dinner?" her mother asked.

"No, it's not necessary. I'll eat on the train."

"Alone?" The Dowager was staring at Edith.

"Carson, are you well?" asked Lady Mary. She wasn't in the mood for a dinner debate.

"Yes, Milady, why wouldn't I be?" Carson looked confused. He had not been listening to the conversation.

"I don't know. Anna said that you had looked a little pale when you got back from the village.  
"Oh, that was only the distance that got to me, Milady. It was rather a hot day too, for June."

"Yes, that it was." She smiled.

"Well, I think we can go through to the drawing room," said Lady Grantham as she put down her cutlery.

* * *

Mrs. Hughes put the milk jar on the tea tray and put the milk back in the cooler. Thank goodness for electricity. She lifted the tea tray and walked lightly to Mr. Carson's pantry. The door was slightly ajar and because her hands were full, she pushed in, not bothering to knock.

He hastily got up. "Mr. Hughes, let me help you with that." He took the tray from her, his fingers brushing hers lightly.

"Thank you, Mr. Carson," she said with a slight frown. He had been looking at something when she came in and threw it into the drawer when she came in. She said nothing. Today was not a normal day for him.

"I hope this tides you over, Mr. Carson." She said as she stepped forward to serve him his tea. He stopped her hand.

"I'll do it, Mrs. Hughes. You just sit down." She nodded silently. It was the second time in a space of minutes that he touched her hand. Not that he had meant to, but she did not mind.

He served the tea, all the while stealing glances at her. He wondered if she had seen him put away that photo, or perhaps not? He knew she would not ask and he preferred it that way. Today was not a normal day for him. Not since the post office. He knew the moment he saw that girl that he had seen her, or rather a mirror image of her, nearly forty years ago. The resemblance could not be mistaken. Her eyes were the same green and she was just as tall.

"Here you go, Mrs. Hughes." He sat opposite her in silence. He did not know how and if he wanted to break it.  
Mrs. Hughes looked at him expectantly, but saw that she would not get anything out of him tonight.  
"I hope we'll be lucky this time around," she said looking at him, trying to lure him back from his thoughts by talking business. "With the advertisement for her Ladyship's maid."

"Yes, I hope so. We can't have her dress herself, or any of the other girls shirking their duties because of it." He wondered who the girl was, and what her relation was to Charlotte. He had not thought of her for… How many years has it been since he last saw her? Forty? No, more like forty-one. But he had thought of her so much in between. The first view years, actually, were torture. Trying not to think of her, how he had lost her. So, when did he stop thinking about Charlotte? He furrowed his brow in concentration… He had not thought of her for…since…

He took a sip of his tea.

"Mr. Carson!"

He jumped, the tea spilling. "What's wrong, Mrs. Hughes?" He put down his saucer and took out his handkerchief to wipe the drops from his lapel.

"It's like watching a pantomime tonight." She said.  
"How do you mean?" He asked, not quite getting the tea stains.

She took his handkerchief from him and leant forward. "I mean, Mr. Carson," she said as she furiously scrubbed at the drops on his lapel, "that your thoughts must be quite something. Your face goes through about ten emotions in a minute, only no words accompany them." She looked at him sternly. She had taken hold of his shoulder with her other hand in an effort to have more control over the tea stain. He only looked at her. Her face was very close. He could see the flecks in her eyes. What colour were they? He looked intently. Blue, but he could have sworn they were hazel sometimes, or even greenish. He did not know.

"Mr. Carson, you are quite impossible tonight." She sat back up. His gaze had made her quite nervous.

"I apologise, Mrs. Hughes. I have a lot on my mind." That was the truth.

"I can see that, Mr. Carson," she swallowed the scolding tea before getting up. "I think I'll leave you to them, then."

"No! Don't go yet. I thought we were going to have tea." He got up too. He did not want her to go yet. With her absent, the thoughts will come crashing in on him.

"I've drunk my tea, Mr. Carson, and you've spilled yours." She pointed at his saucer. He followed her gaze.

"Oh. Well, then can we have another cup?"

"I think I'll turn in for the night. I can talk again tomorrow." She gave him a thin smile.

"Very well." He walked her to the door and opened it for her.

She looked up at his towering frame. "Good night, Mr. Carson. I hope you sleep well, tonight."

He smiled. She never missed anything. He doubted whether he would sleep tonight. He gave her a nod. Blue eyes, she definitely had blue eyes, "Good night, Mrs. Hughes."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_Change of characters for this chapter. All of this so far and hereafter is what I think might happen in seasons 4 and 5. I'm using some actual historical names for some of the characters, but the characters themselves in no way reflect the real people. Anyway, enjoy reading. Please review._

The bustle in the offices of _The Sketch_ always made Edith bubble with excitement. Here were young women, her age, making a life for themselves and they all looked very glamorous. She loved being part of this working world. She made her way between the desks to Mr. Gregson's office. She dared not call him Michael, that would just twist an already complicated relationship…situation.

"Morning, Mercy," she said when she reached the secretary.

"Morning, Milady." She greeted with a great big smile. Mercy was a bit younger than Edith and somewhat star struck with the aristocrat.

"Mercy, I told you, you may call me Edith."

"Yes, Milady."

Edith smiled. She would not get anywhere with her. She made to enter Gregson's office.

"You can't go in yet, Milady. Mr. Gregson's busy with a lady."

"Busy with a lady?" Edith asked, somehow not liking the phrasing.

"Yes, she came in here wanting to talk to him, right urgent. Think she might be a royal like you."

"I'm not a royal!" she huffed."What do you mean she wanted to talk with him urgently?" Could it be his wife? No, his wife was a lunatic and locked up somewhere.

"I dunno, Milady. She came in and asked if she could speak to Mr. Gregson. She looked as bleak as your blouse, Milady."

"It sounds mysterious. I'll wait in the lounge then. Will you tell him?"

"Will do, Milady."

* * *

"I thought this might cheer you up, Mr. Carson." Mrs. Patmore put down the plate of cookies in front of him.

"Why would I need cheering up, Mrs. Patmore?" Carson asked, looking at the cookies. Lemon and lavender.

"Why, Mr. Carson? You look like you're competing with Atlas for the weight of the world." She looked at him questioningly. Not that she expected him to confide in her, that was Mrs. Hughes's privilege, and hers alone.

Carson frowned. "Thank you for that assessment, Mrs. Patmore, and thank you for the cookies."

"Shall I ask Daisy to make you a cup of tea, then?" She asked with a smile.

"I've already done that, thank you, Mrs. Patmore." Mrs. Patmore turned to see Mrs. Hughes standing in the door of the pantry.

"Well, I'll best be getting back to the dinner then."

"Oh, Mrs. Patmore, I've just come down from her Ladyship. Lord and Lady Flintshire phoned this morning. They will be dining with us tonight."

"Oh, my Lord!I'd better get crackin', then! Those two are more high-and-mighty than Prime minister Cavendish, bless him!" Mrs. Patmore scurried out of the pantry. "Ivy! Daisy! Stoke the fires!"

"She certainly has a flair for melodrama," Mrs. Hughes said with a smile as she closed the door.

"Yes," he chuckled before getting serious again. After a moment of thought he asked, "Do I compete with Atlas, Mrs. Hughes?"

"Usually or recently?" she asked with an arched brow.

"Well, both, I guess." He knew by the look of her what she was going to say.

"Yes, but more so recently…after you saw that girl in the post office." She was not going to beat around the bush anymore. Enough is enough, she wanted him to snap out of his daze.

Mr. Carson looked at her intently, "I don't know what you mean, Mrs. Hughes."

"Come now, Mr. Carson. No need to lie to me."

He sighed. She really did not miss anything. He opened his mouth to say something to restore their peaceful atmosphere, but the knock on the door stopped him. She turned to let Ivy in with the tray.  
"Thank you, Ivy. Just put it down on the table over there." Ivy did as she was told and rushed out again. Mr. Carson intimidated her.

"You were saying, Mr. Carson?" she said as she sat down. He came to join her on the opposite chair.

"The girl reminded me of…someone."

Mrs. Hughes felt her heart lunge unexpectedly. Someone, she thought, there was a 'someone' in Mr. Carson's life?

"I gather it wasn't a particularly pleasant memory?"

He looked up from stirring his tea when he heard the strange tone in her voice. "No, not particularly."

Well, she thought, why should there not be someone in his past? She had Joe Burns, why should he not have someone too? She knew he was not going to say anything more on the subject at this time, maybe tonight, when they had their sherry.

"Well, Mr. Carson, I gather you heard me say that Lord and Lady Flintshire are coming to dine here tonight?"

"Are they going to stay the night?"

"In all likelihood, Her Ladyship has asked me to get rooms ready in case. I've put Edna and Alice to it."

"Well, I hope this isn't another one of those dinners where you get the feeling that they've given you the wrong script."

Mrs. Hughes chuckled at that. Thank goodness, he was joking again. "Lord and Lady Flintshire are masters of talking between the lines," she said. Gossip mongers the both of them, she thought.

"Gmph!" he grunted.

She finished her tea and said, "Well, Mr. Carson. I'd best be off to check on those maids."

He got up and followed her to the door. She was about to open the door when he took a hold of her arm. She felt a shock go through her, but showed nothing, only turned to face him. "Mrs. Hughes…" he said uncertainly. She felt her heart flutter. She tried not to look too intensely at him. "Forgive me for talking between the lines."

"What do you mean, Mr. Carson?" She really was not sure.

He sighed and let his hand slip to just above the cuff of her sleeve. "I mean the girl at the post office and the 'someone' I was referring to."

"Oh, Mr. Carson," she almost wanted to stroke his check, "You really needn't explain to me. We are both old enough to have a 'someone' in the past." She knows she was fishing. She had to know how long ago this someone featured.

He smiled at her. "I'll tell you some other time, when we don't have guests to prepare for."

She nodded and pulled her arm lightly from his grasp. He did not let go completely and her hand brushed his palm, as she pulled free. Thank God she was leaving now, because her heart could not have taken a moment longer of his proximity.

* * *

Edith put down what was her third cup of coffee. She will have to stop now. The caffeine was making her jumpy. She glanced through the glass panes toward Gregson's office. That 'lady' had better be done soon. She was going to miss her train. She will have to stick in her head and remind Gregson of their appointment. Just then, the door to Gregson's office opened and out came a woman looking every inch the royal Mercy described her to be. Edith walked closer to catch Gregson's eye, but rather than wait for her, he walked the woman out. Edith frowned as she reached Mercy.

"I'll just wait in Mr. Gregson's office."

"Very well, Milady." Mercy said without looking at her, still staring at the woman by Gregson's side.

"Lady Edith," Gregson almost flew into his office. "I am _so _sorry for keeping you waiting so long. I really had to attend to… a matter."

A matter? She thought this was increasingly strange. "It must have been someone important?"

"Yes, but I cannot discuss it at this stage." At least he told her outright.

"Well, we'd better get going on our meeting. I'm going to miss my train if we don't."

He would not mind her missing her train, but it would not be appropriate for him to remark on such things. "Oh, we would not want that!" He came around the desk and sat down. "I really liked your strong stance on how the aristocracy had to embrace the New World in the running of their estates. I gather that you have personal experience in this?"

"Yes, we've had a rough year and a bit in terms of changes."

He knew she was referring to the death of her sister and the changes on their own estate. Lord Grantham had discussed a few things with him the time they had met in Scotland.

"I thought that enough time had passed for me to write about it without stepping on too many toes." she said matter-of-factly.

"Well, it is your best work yet." He smiled at her.

She blushed at this and he nearly got up and kissed her, but before he could do anything his telephone rang. "I'm terribly sorry."

She motioned for him to answer and got up to go and stand at the window.

"Michael Gregson, hallo?"

"Yes?"

He went quiet listening and then "WHAT?!"

Edith spun around. He sounded terrified and looked it too.

"I'll be there in twenty minutes. Just keep her from doing something stupid." He slammed down the phone.

"Michael, what happened?" She could not help breaking her own maxim. The look on his face was that of shock and horror and she only wanted to sooth him.  
He looked at her with wide eyes.

"It's my wife. She's got one of the orderlies locked in her room, and she's swallowed the key."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

_It's a mixed crew for this chapter. Please review and give suggestions_

* * *

"Well, Edith, dear, I'm glad you could make it in time for dinner." Edith plastered a smile before saying, "Yes, Aunt." She could hear her aunt asking her all sorts of questions without actually saying a word. She was not going to give her the satisfaction.

"So, I've seen your picture in the paper. That editor of yours is certainly handsome, in a strange way."

She ignored the bait, "Well, yes, it was an honour to cut the ribbon for the new orphanage in London."

"I'm sure it was, dear, but that editor, now, why was he there with you?"

Edith wanted to slap her, luckily Granny Grantham rescued her, "Come now, Susan, I don't know why you make it sound so scandalous. He was there to show respect, as I'm sure many other editors do on such occasions, and since it was Edith's article on war orphans that sparked the building of the orphanage it was only right that he be there."

Lady Flintshire smiled a tight smile and said, "I'm sure." With that she turned to Mary and Edith was free to whisper to her grandmother, "I am surprised, Granny, just last night, you were insinuating the same scandal."

"I'm your Grandmother, dear. I'm allowed to insinuate as much as I want."

Edith rolled her eyes. "Whatever you say, Granny." She got up and let her Grandmother rescue Mary as well, while she went to stand by her father and Matthew.

"How was London?" Matthew asked.

"Unsuccessful, thank you." she replied drily.

"How so?" Her father asked.

"Oh, there was a woman with him who took up most of his time and then he got an emergency phone call and had to rush away."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Matthew said.

"What woman?" her father asked.

"I don't know. She was definitely an aristocrat."

"Edith, I did not know you stereotyped." Matthew said with a smirk.

"Trust me, I'm not stereotyping in this case. Anyway, I'll have to go to London again next week." That is if he calls to confirm, she thought. She asked him to let her know the outcome of his crisis.

The door to the drawing room opened and Carson appeared. He walked to her. "Excuse me, Milady, you have a phone call."

"Oh, thank you, Carson!" She left quickly.

"Who calls at such an uncivilized hour, Carson?"

"It's Mr. Gregson, Milord." Carson answered with the same indignation as his Lordship. Lady Edith was not his favourite, but he hated any situation that might shroud the house in scandal, especially with Lord and Lady Flintshire here, and a married editor calling the unmarried daughter of an Earl was a recipe for scandal.

"Well, I'll have to talk to Edith…."

There was a blood curdlingcry from the hall that stopped Lord Grantham dead cold.

He and Lady Grantham ran to the hall.

Edith was in a bundle on the floor sobbing and moaning, the telephone dangling in mid-air between table and floor.

Lady Grantham knelt at her. "Darling, what happened?!"

"Hallo?" Lord Grantham said. "What in God's name did you say to my daughter!"

"Oh, Mama! He's…" Edith went pale and wretched on the floor. Lady Grantham gave a little shout. "Robert!"

Lord Grantham held up his hand. "I see...Well, please keep me informed." He put down the phone.

He looked at his wife and shaked his head. By thattime staff and guests were both in the hall. He simply bent and scooped his daughter into his arms. "We need to get her cleaned up." He wasn't going to say anything now. He carried her up the stairs. "Ask Anna to come."

Lady Grantham turned to Carson. Mrs. Hughes was standing next to him. "Mrs. Hughes, will you fetch Anna please, and then…" she could not help blushing a little, "ask one of the girls to clean up."

"Yes, Milady." Mrs. Hughes disappeared downstairs. Anna came rushing out and up the stairs in seconds, followed by Edna.

"Carson, will you please escort our guests back to the drawing room?" He simply nodded.

"Milords and Ladies, if you'll come back to the drawing room."

Lady Grantham went up the stairs in a trot.

"I'll come with you, Mama!" Mary ran after her mother.

"No," her mother stopped dead. "I need you to keep the peace downstairs. No doubt, our aunt will say something that will have Granny spitting harpoons. I can't handle blood and bile on the carpets on the same night."

Mary nodded and turned away. Lady Grantham stopped her by simply giving her hand a squeeze. "Thank you, my dear."

Robert was waiting for her outside Edith's door. "They are cleaning her up now."

"Robert! What in the name of…" she nearly shouted at him.

"He is dead." He said simply.

"What? Who's dead?" She could not help sounding stupid.

"Gregson."

It took a few seconds for her to register what he said.

"But he was only alive this afternoon… How can he be dead now?"

"I'm not sure. The doctor of Saint Catherine's hospital in London said that he was stabbed."

"What!" Cora felt faint. "What in the name of Heaven did he get himself into?"

"Cora, I don't know, but until we do, please, let us not make any more fuss than is necessary."

She glared at him. "Edith just threw up her dinner at the news and you are worried about the name of Grantham?"

"On any other night I would have expressed more sympathy, Cora, I knew she felt something for him, obviously a lot, but with Susan and Hugh here, we have to downplay it."

"Well, you go downplay it. I'll go and see to our daughter."

He certainly felt the stab of her accusation, but said nothing and only left to go and break the news.

* * *

Mrs. Hughes dreaded the day that was ahead. Since Lady Edith's editor's death, there has been an atmosphere in the house and she hated those. And now, today, she had the interviews. She could not stall any longer. Her Ladyship needed a maid, more than ever. There was a knock at the door.

"Come in!"

"There's a Miss Poole for you, Mrs. Hughes." Edna said peeking into the office.

"Thank you, Edna. Will you escort her to the drawing room, please? I have to fetch her Ladyship."

* * *

"Edith?" Tom stood in the door of the nursery looking at his sister-in-law. She was leaning over Sybie's cot.

She did not look up and he is not sure she heard him. He closed the door behind him.

"Edith, you've missed lunch."

"I know." She looked at him then and he saw her puffed up eyes. "I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't be here when I'm this upset. It's just…" She stroked the sleeping girl's cheek.

"Just?" He asked softly.

"Just that seeing her reminds me faintly that there is still hope in the world."

"Did you love him?" he asked after a while.

She looked up at him, shocked. She straightened up. "I don't know."

"Oh…" He really thought that they were something more than colleagues.

"You also think we…crossed the line, don't you?"

"Well, you were going to London quite often."

"I did, yes, but it was always work," she sighed.

"Always?"

"Stop fishing!" she hissed. She looked daggers at him. Sybie moved and she immediately calmed down. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I shouldn't be here." She walked past him, but he stopped her. "Edith, there is no shame in loving a man."

"There is, if he is married, but that seems to be my fate." She pushed past and he followed.

"What do you mean?" He frowned.

"Nothing. If you'll excuse me. I'm leaving for the funeral in the morning." She kept walking and this time he did not follow. She was a dark horse, one that he did not know if he wanted to tame.

* * *

"Mrs. Hughes, there is a Miss Simons waiting for you in the drawing room." Edna had her head around the frame again.

"Good grief!" Mrs. Hughes whispered. Will it never end? The day thus far has not been going well at all. With the Gregson ghost hanging over the house and Lady Grantham still not recovered from the shock of having to dismiss Miss O'Brien, the interviews were barely civil. "Thank you, Edna," she sighed as she got up for the fourth time today.

"Is this the last one, Mrs. Hughes?" Edna asked.

"Yes, I believe so."

"Thank God." Edna sighed. Mrs. Hughes arched her brow in question.

"I only mean, Ma'am, that it's a right bother to not be able to get on with me work."

"Well, you can go along now. No more interruptions for today." Edna walked away with a smile that Mrs. Hughes was sure had absolutely nothing to do with her work and more to do with Mr. Branson, but she chose to ignore it for now. She had to go decipher another script. If this one did not make it, she will have to go into town, again.


	5. Chapter 5

_For those who root for Lady Edith's happiness, I apologise for the previous chapter, but I promise it is going somewhere. Just hold on. To all who read, please review._

:)

* * *

Mrs. Hughes steamrollered her way into the post office again, still in a huff that Mr. Carson would not accompany her again. Not that she had showed her disappointment, of course. "Mrs. White, I need to…" She stopped dead in her tracks. It was not Mrs. White at the counter, but the girl from a week ago. "Oh, I do apologise." she said.

"It's alright, Mrs. Hughes. I know Mrs. White is quite the fixture here."

She knew her name? "Oh, you remember me… I…uhm…" She could not, for the life of her remember the girl's name. She knew it was something fancy.

"Lilith Burke-Davies," the girl said with a giggle, "I know it's a mouthful to remember the first time."

Mrs. Hughes smiled, but was still rather embarrassed. "Oh, yes, I remember now. Davies is a Welsh name, isn't it?"  
"Yes, Ma'am. I'm a fellow Celt, like you." She winked.

Mrs. Hughes started at this gesture. She was definitely not used to people winking at her.

"Well…" She had to state her business.

"How is Mr. Carson?"

"What? Oh… He is right as rain, thank you." This girl had the memory of an elephant!

"Well, I'm glad to hear it. Now, what can I help you with?"

"Yes, well, I'm here for the post and then to place another advertisement."

"I'll see what is in the back, just a moment." Lilith disappeared into the room at the back. When she turned her back Mrs. Hughes could not help to notice the intricate braid on the back of her head. Lilith appeared again. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Hughes. I think the early morning mail has gone out already. I don't know when the mail will be in again."

"Well, that's all right. I was hoping there was another answer to the advertisement."

"The one you want to place again?"

"Yes. I want to…"

"I can't help you with that, Mrs. Hughes. Mrs. White's not showed me how."

"Oh…" This is a bother.

"But I can write it down and then have her telegram it?"

"Where is Mrs. White exactly?" Mrs. Hughes tried to sound as diplomatic as possible.

"I think she had some family drama up in Liverpool. She'll be gone for the next couple of days, I think."

"Oh, but I can't wait another couple of days, Her Ladyship needs a maid right now!"

"Oh, I can do that!"

"I beg your pardon? I don't think you can." Mrs. Hughes was struggling to remain composed.

"Yes, I can, Mrs. Hughes. Mrs. White will only be gone another few days and then I can come for an interview."

This girl was impossibly forward. "I don't think…"

"Please, Mrs. Hughes. I don't mean to put you on a guilt trip, but I'm living from job to job."

"That confession isn't helping you."

"Oh…" Lilith had gone pale.

"Mrs. Hughes, look at my hair. I did it myself." She turned her head to show her. "I've not been a lady's maid before, but I have experience of doing hair and costumes on stage…"

"That will _not _be appropriate for Her Ladyship." She was sounding like Mr. Carson.

"But I…"

"I'm sorry. I'll come back in a few days' time."

* * *

Edith held her head low. She could not look at the other people. The minister's voice drowned in the background. Her head was spinning, she felt like throwing up again. How could this have happened? He went there to help the orderly and he came out on the coroner's trolley. She had trouble understanding the doctor from the ward. Aunt Rosamund had asked him to her house, no doubt, so she could report to Granny, but Edith was glad, she had no strength to go to the ward. Apparently,_she_ had broken a vase and used one of the shards to keep the orderly in check. Michael went in there to calm her down, but she stabbed him. Edith bit her lip to stop the tears. She tasted blood in her mouth. That woman had killed her own husband. True enough, she did not know that he was her husband, but still. There must have been some residual remembrance of what they used to be. And now… and now she would never see him again. The realization of loss made her gasp for breath. She focused on the hole in the ground.

The minister had said the last prayer already and the family had already thrown handfuls of dirt on it. Others had begun to disperse. She really was going to be sick. She held her breath and walked away, but the nausea hit her like an iron fist. She doubled over and wretched behind one of the graves. She fumbled in her purse for a handkerchief, but someone held a fine lace one out to her. She looked up, but her vision was blurry. "I can't take this, it'll be soiled."

"Take it, please," The woman said.

Edith wiped her mouth and stood up. "Thank you," she held on to the gravestone for another moment. "I don't know what came over me."

"I imagine it would be loss, my dear." The woman smiled at her sympathetically and only then did Edith recognize her as the woman from Gregson's office.

"I apologise for that display of my gastrointestinal workings."

"My dear, I think you need a cup of tea. Come with me." Edith let herself be led away by the woman. What a minute, she thought. "I'm Edith Crawly, by the way."

"Pleased to meet you, Lady Edith. I'm Charlotte Cavendish."

Edith gasped. Her humiliation was complete. Throwing up at a graveyard because of a married man and then having the Marquis of Salisbury's wife, the Prime Minister, practically wiping her mouth for her. "Lady Salisbury, I apologise."

"What for?"The woman stopped in front of a car.

"For not recognizing you." A lanky chauffeur held the door for Edith.

"How could you, if we've never met?" she raised her brow, still smiling. "Help her, please." she said to the chauffeur before going to the other side of the car.

Edith's nausea had not subsided, but she dare not throw up in a car that belonged to the Prime Minister.

* * *

"And then she had the nerve to ask me for an interview!" Mrs. Hughes was pacing Mr. Carson's pantry recounting her strange meeting with Lilith in the post office. "I mean, Mr. Carson, can you imagine having a stage performer working for her Ladyship?"

"What's wrong with that, Mrs. Hughes?"

Mrs. Hughes nearly tripped over her feet as she spun around. She gaped at him. He looked at her incredulously. "Don't look at me like I'm some sort of nightmarish creature, Mrs. Hughes."

"I think you, are."

"Oh, seriously, Mrs. Hughes. I used to be a performer myself, remember?"

"That is different." she said automatically.

"How is that different? I turned out to be all right?"

She frowned. "Why do I get the feeling that this discussion should be the other way around, Mr. Carson?"

He laughed, but she noticed it did not reach his eyes, actually, he was quite nervous. "Right," she said without thinking. "Who are you and what have you done with my Mr. Carson." Oh, darn it! It had slipped out.

He stopped laughing. "Uhm, I don't know what you mean by that…" The use of 'my' had unleashed a battalion of butterflies in his stomach.

"I mean, Mr. Carson, that you are not usually so…so willing to risk." She did not like the way that sounded.

"Mrs. Hughes," He looked quite crestfallen, "I don't risk many things, but I believe you are in dire straights. We cannot go on any longer without a lady's maid. We need to hire, and you can't wait another couple of days."

"Gmph, all good points, Mr. Carson, but I still feel that I should be the one saying these words, not you."

She really had a way showing up his weaknesses. He knew she was right, with any other girl he would have spat nails at the thought of having an former stage act serving Her Ladyship, but this one was different. He cleared his throat, "Well, I think you have to go back tomorrow and schedule an appointment."

"If you say so, Mr. Carson."

* * *

"Mr. Branson, there is a telephone call for you in the hall," Thomas said.

"Thank you." Tom turned around from the mirror where he had been tying his tie.

Tom ran downstairs. "Hello?" he said.

"Tom, it's Edith."

"Edith, why are you still in London? I thought you were coming back in time for dinner?"

"Well something's come up. Don't panic, please."

"Tell me." He said and after a few minutes he really felt like panicking.

"Will you tell them?" she asked.

"Yes. We'll see you tomorrow evening then." He put down the phone. Oh, bollox, how was he going to tell his in-laws that Edith was wining and dining at 10 Downing Street…

"What's wrong, Tom?" Mary asked as he walked into the dining room. They were already seated and Carson was serving the wine.

"I've had a call from Edith."

"Oh?" Lady Grantham said, taking an interest.

"Yes, she's phoned to say she'll be staying in London. Apparently, her day took a turn for the unexpected.

"What now?" The Dowager Countess asked, braising herself for the worst. Her middle grand-daughter was becoming more and more a loose cannon.

"Well… She's at 10 Downing Street having dinner with the Prime Minister's wife."

"WHAT?" Robert spluttered. "Edith is having dinner with Lady Charlotte Cavendish…OH! Carson be careful.

"I'm terribly sorry, Milord." Carson had spilled wine on Lord Grantham's lap.

"It's all right, just bring a few more napkins," he waved Carson away. "Why on Earth is Edith having dinner with the Prime Minister's wife?"

"The met at the funeral. She was sick again, and Lady Charlotte had helped her."

"Oh, really, can't she keep her fluids inside?" The Dowager said indignantly, "The scandal."

"Mama!" Robert chastised her.

"Tom, is she all right, though?" asked Lady Grantham, the concern apparent on her face.

"Yes, she is." He soothed her.

"Well, then, let's hope she does not be sick a third time, although such things happen in threes." the Dowager mumbled.

* * *

"Mr. Carson, are you well?" Thomas was looking at him, with no small amount of curiosity on his face.

"Yes, Mr. Burrow." Carson clipped. Mrs. Hughes just put down her knife and fork and looked at him fleetingly. He had come down from dinner deathly pale. He has to dismiss them now so that she could get to the bottom of this.

"I think, we can all have an early night. To bed." he said right on cue.

There were grumbles all around, but everyone got up. Daisy and Ivy stayed behind and cleared the plates.

He looked at her then, and she braved a suggestion, "Mr. Carson, shall I make us a cup of tea?"

He got up slowly, unthinkingly patting her hand, "Not tonight, Mrs. Hughes. I think I'll go to bed now."

Her heart broke as he left. She just sat there.

"So, what's wrong with him?" Mrs Patmore leaned against the doorframe.

"I don't know."

"What do you mean, 'you don't know.' You always know." Mrs. Patmore came to stand by her.

"Not this time, Mrs. Patmore, not this time." She got up. "Good night, Mrs. Patmore. Supper was lovely, as usual."

Mrs. Patmore watched her leave. She had a feeling a bomb was going to drop soon.


	6. Chapter 6

_Thanks so much for the reviews so far, please don't stop giving feedback. Any is welcome. By now you know that some of the characters are mine and some Julian Fellows. Just a warning - this is a rather long chapter, but I hope you enjoy it._

"Are you also going to place my soap strategically?" Lady Grantham looked at Lilith apprehensively. "Uhm…No, Milady." Lilith looked at her with a puzzled expression, because she had not yet been informed of what really happened to the previous Lady's maid.

"Cora…" The Dowager Countess' tone of voice was a warning. Mrs. Hughes had asked her to sit in on this interview as she herself could not be objective, though, she did not mention this to the Dowager.

"I'm just asking, Mama. You never know." Lady Grantham was still looking at Lilith.

Right, Lilith thought, if she really wanted this job, and she did desperately, she'll have to do something decisive. "Milady, begging your pardon for what I'm about to say, but I've not been informed yet of your previous lady's maid's dismissal, but I'm sure Mrs. Hughes will tell me if I'm fortunate enough to make it through this interview, but by the way it's been going I can guess that there has been a serious breach of trust. Am I correct?" She looked imploringly at Lady Grantham.

"Miss Burke-D…"Mrs. Hughes gasped, but the Dowager only held up her hand for silence.

"Breach of trust might be a rather euphemistic view of things." The Dowager Countess was stunned by the girl's forwardness.

"Right," Lilith said, looking briefly at her and then turned to Lady Grantham again. "Milady, I'll be honest and say that I'll not tell you everything about myself, but you may ask me anything and I'll answer it truthfully. If I don't want to, I'll tell you that as well."

There was silence, even from the Dowager. Cora only gaped at her.

Lilith shrugged, she was burning her bridges, but she had come too far to stop now. "The point is, Lady Grantham, that I may not tell you every one of my secrets, but you'll never hear a lie from me."

Still silence rang.

Lilith swallowed, bridges to ash, she thought, "I'll take that as my cue to leave then," She stood up "I bid you a good day…"

"No cue has been given, Miss Davies." The Dowager Countess cocked her head to one side in the most matter-of-fact way Lilith had ever seen.

"What? I mean, I beg your pardon, Milady?"

"You have not been excused permanently, Miss. Davies." she said all in one breath. "Mrs. Hughes, Lady Grantham and I, however do need to discuss the matter. So if you don't mind to wait outside." She pulled the cord to ring the bell. Carson came in immediately. "You rang, Milady?"

"Yes, Carson, please see that Ms. Davies gets to the kitchen. Her Ladyship and I need to discuss the interview."

"Burke-Davies." Carson said simply. Mrs. Hughes frowned at him. Since when did he correct the Dowager.

"She doesn't need the 'Burke' here, Carson. Now take her downstairs, please."

Lilith stood there shell-shocked. They were supposed to let her know in a view days, not immediately.

"That was the cue." The Dowager informed her again.

"Oh, right. Yes. I'll be outside, in the kitchen, I mean."

She and Carson left.

"Well, Mrs. Hughes you will have your hands full with this one, I can tell you that much." said the Dowager.

"I dare say you are right, Milady." Mrs. Hughes said sighing.

"That is if we hire her." Lady Grantham replied tersely.

"Of course you are going to hire her!"

"How can I if she admitted outright that she won't be honest with me? I don't want to fear for my life."

"Oh, stop being so melodramatic, Cora. You sound like a bad stage act." Anyway, she did not say that she won't be honest with you, she said she will not tell you everything. There is a difference."

"I fail to see it." Cora huffed.

"The difference, my dear, is that you will have a maid with the reins on her thoughts, which I may say is a vast improvement on the last one."

Cora said nothing, which was equal to agreement in the Dowager's opinion.

"Well, then. We have found you a maid at least." She nodded for Mrs. Hughes to go and fetch Lilith again.

* * *

Edith stood in front of Gregson's desk. It felt so strange to be here without him. Mercy sat at her desk, ill disguising her tears, very unprofessional, but then again, there were others doing the same bad job of not crying. She was looking for a file. Lady Salisbury had asked her to get it for her. As yet she did not know what was in the file, only that she wanted it out of the office. Of course, she was terribly polite about the whole thing, but Edith sensed her urgency at getting back the file. She had been looking everywhere, to no avail.

"Right," she said determinedly and walked out the door. "Mercy."

Mercy jumped at her voice. "I gave me a fright, Milady."

"I'm sorry." The girl's eyes were red.

She sniffed unladylike and asked, "What can I do for you, Milady?"

"Mercy, do you perhaps know where Mr. Gregson would have stashed…" How can she tell her about the file without telling her? "…sensitive information? There's a client that wanted me to look into something." Gosh, she was sounding like a detective.

"Uhm…" Mercy blushed a little, "I don't…officially… know, Milady, but I saw a couple of times how Mr. Gregson disappeared under his table."

"Under the table?" Edith turned slowly, the man was really a mystery to her.

She stooped under the table. She gingerly looked up at the top. Nothing. Then she looked at the drawers, she had already looked in each of them. Then she carefully felt under the drawer. Nothing.

"I can still see you, Milady."

"Damn!" Edith said knocking her head against the top. She looked up. Mercy was standing in front of the desk. "He kind of crept under, Milady, not just bowing down like you did."

"Oh, but there's just the front panel." Edith said exasperated.

"Maybe it's under the table?" Mercy suggested.

Edith crept under the table, careful not to rip her stockings. Just by the front panel, the panel that shielded her from the rest of the staff on the other side of the glass windows, she felt a small handle. "What the...?" She pushed. Nothing. Then pulled. It gave way. She pulled it all the way. The panel covered a box. "Mercy, can you give me the desk lamp, please?"

Mercy squatted behind her. Edith turned her head so that the light can fill the space. There was a lock. "Of course there would be a lock," Edith said irritated. "I don't suppose you have a key for that?" Edith asked.

"I think he kept that on him."

"Great. How am I supposed to get the key if it is on him?"

"His jacket is still there, Milady." Mercy's eyes watered again.

Edith looked to where Mercy pointed. Michael's jacket was still hanging on hat stand. She got up and took it off. She got a waft of his after-shave. She swallowed. It was like he was standing there in front of her. She felt through the pockets and right enough there was a key. "Thank goodness."

She unlocked the box. Inside was a one letter. She held it to the light. It had her name on it.

"Why does it have my name on it?" She asked more out of shock than actually wanting an answer.

"Maybe he wanted to tell you something before he died?"

"He did not know he was going to die." She said tersely. She felt the bottom of the box again. "There's no file."

"Why would there be a file?" They got up and Mercy put back the lamp.

"She wants me to get the file, where is the file?" Edith was speaking in an uncharacteristically frantic manner.

"Do you mean that royal lady's file?"

"YES!"

"Well, why didn't you say so, Milady? Mr. Gregson left it on his desk when he…well, when he left and I've kept it for him in my drawers."

"Oh, for heaven's sake! Can I have it?"

"Yes, of course." Mercy said in a panic, not understanding Edith's anger. She ran to get it and Edith followed. "Did you read it?"

"No, Milady. Mr. Gregson was very clear about the files I could read and could not read. This one I guessed was off limits."

"Good thinking, thank you, Mercy."

At least she put a smile on the girl's face before she left, Edith thought guiltily.

* * *

"You look lovely, darling." Robert said when he saw Cora that evening. Even as a man he had to admit her eyes shone against the purple fabric.

"You don't think it's too much?" she asked apprehensively. It was Lilith's first night as her lady's maid and she was rather surprised by what she had suggested for her.

"Not at all." Robert said honestly, and to emphasise it he kissed her lightly.

To hide her flush, she turned to Matthew. "Have you heard anything from cousin Isobel?"

"Yes, I've had a letter from her this morning. The conference seems to be going rather well."

"No doubt cousin Isobel is shining with all the attention." The Dowager whispered to Mary, who just rolled her eyes.

"What was that, Cousin Violet?" Matthew asked.

"Oh, I was just saying they must find her such a sorted-out woman."

"Well, you know Mama, she was always one for lists and precision."

"Yes," Robert said, "I think Edith's orphanage has a very good ambassador."

"It's not my orphanage, Papa." Edith said quietly.

"It's as good as, my dear," said the Dowager.

"How was your visit with Lady Salisbury?" Mary asked, with a hint of jealousy in her voice.

"Nice, thank you."

"I hope your manners were a little more than nice." The Dowager arched a brow at her.

"Yes, Granny, my manners were exemplary." Edith said sarcastically.

"Don't be snippy, Edith," chastised her father.

"For heaven's sake…" Edith hissed. Just then Alfred came in to announce dinner.

"Saved by the footman," said the Dowager as she walked out.

* * *

"You see, Lilith, we are a house of excellence," said Thomas at the dinner table. Lilith sat to Mr. Carson's left and Thomas sat on Mrs. Hughes left. Not even as under-butler could he take her seat at Mr. Carson's right side.

Lilith looked at him. "I know, Mr. Burrow. Mr. Carson's already given me that speech."

He looked at her fully expecting Mr. Carson to remark on her cheekiness, but Mr. Carson only smiled absent-mindedly.

"Right, just checking that you know what you are in for."

"I assure you, Mr. Burrow, that all servants hired are equal to their task." Mr. Carson cut in.

"You didn't think so of Mr. Bates…"

"That is enough, Thomas." Mrs. Hughes silenced him.

Anna and Mr. Bates were sitting further down the table and they might not have heard.

"Where in Wales are you from, Lilith?" Jimmy asked.

"You'll address her as Ms. Burke-Davies, James." Mr. Carson said.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"No, it's all right, James," Lilith said and patted Mr. Carson's arm when he puffed up to protest. "I'm from Cardiff."

"I've always wanted to go there," Alfred piped in with a goofy smile. He no longer was 'the man on stilts'. Lilith was almost as tall as Mr. Carson.

Good grief, Mrs. Hughes seethed silently, another bout of Cupid's arrows have been unleashed. The pat Lilith gave Mr. Carson had not gone unnoticed and it made her jealous, quite frankly.

* * *

"What's wrong with you, Edith?" Mary had put little Robert in his cot and Edith had followed her. "I mean, I know you are upset about Gregson, but this…stupor you've been in all day, it's too much."

"Mary, don't lecture me on what is too much, please." Edith had wanted to talk to her about the letter she found in Michael's office, but now she could not understand why she wanted to. Mary and she had never had that kind of relationship. She turned to leave the nursery.

"Edith…" Mary tried to stop her.

"What was that about?" Matthew asked as he came in.

"Nothing. Edith's being strange."

"You shouldn't be too hard on her, my darling. We don't know what she's going through."

"Please, don't you start." Mary said in a huff. She did not continue. Her record with love affairs has not been exemplary, so she rather kept quiet. She turned to her son again. Her pride and joy. Little Robert Reginald Crawley. He had been well worth the wait. Matthew kissed her cheek. The future of Downton was secure for at least another generation.

* * *

Lilith stood silently as she untangled the braid in Lady Grantham's hair. She did not know what to say to her, but she knew she had to win her over or she would be out on the street by the end of the week. She gently took the brush and worked out all the tangles. "Can I get you anything when I'm done here, Milady?"

"No, thank you." At least a thank you, even though it was not meant.

"Right."

Lady Grantham was staring at a picture on her dressing table. It was a beautiful young woman with black hair and blue eyes like hers. It must be her daughter. She has not seen any of the daughters yet. She was in and out the day before and only downstairs today. "You have beautiful daughters, Milady."

"Thank you." She felt Lady Grantham tensed at her comment. Right, she thought, rather not put your foot in it, Lilith.

"Well, that's me done, Milady." She put down the brush and turned to pick up the dinner dress. Thank goodness that seemed to have been a good choice. She was not used to dressing ladies.

"Good night." Lady Grantham said as she fleetingly looked at her.

* * *

He heard heals click on the floor. Tom looked up from the book he had been reading in the small library.

"Oh!" Edith came to a halt, "You gave me a fright, Tom."

"I did not mean to." He got up.

"I…I…" She looked flushed and upset. She shuddered as if trying to get control of herself.

"Sit down." He said.

She slumped onto the settee and he sat next to her. "What happened in London?"

Edith bit her lip. Her own sister would not give her the time of day, but their former chauffeur would. "Everything."

"Boy, that sounds intense."

"Rather."

"Tell me."

She held out a letter to him. She had been clutching it when she came in. "What's this?" he took it gingerly.

"It's a letter from Michael."

"Your editor? But it has no postage mark on it."

"I know. I was looking for a file of a client when I found a hidden safe under the floor under his desk."

"Blimey, it sounds like a mystery novel." He looked at the envelope. It had her name on it.

"This was the only thing in there," she said and he could hear that she wanted to cry.

"What does the letter say?"  
"It's basically a very candid confession of love." She wiped a tear from her cheek and got up to face him.

"Dammit!" she shouted all of a sudden. "Why? Seriously, why does it always happen to me?"

"You have to be more specific."

"Why do I have to fall in love with the wrong men. First there is Anthony, then Drake, then Anthony again, then Gregson."

"Farmer Drake? But isn't he married to Helen?"

"Yes. So?" She blushed furiously. That had slipped out.

"How did that happen?"

"Oh, it was during the war, when I worked on their farm. Remember?" He nodded, still confused. "Anyway, one thing led to another and the one night he kissed me."

"Blimey."

She glared at him. "His wife must have seen because the next day I got a note to say that my services were no longer required."

"I did not know that."

"Nobody did. I don't know why I've told you. The point is, I've not been lucky in love. Two married men and one runaway."

She slumped onto the settee again and held her head in her hands while saying, "Can't I get one thing right?"

"You've gotten many things right, Edith." Tom said earnestly.

"Don't patronize me," she whispered.

"I'm not. Look at me, Edith." He took her hands from her face. "You are making a career for yourself, you've helped orphans. You keep people accountable for their actions. And you've gotten your picture in the paper." The last little humour was lost on her.

"And yet the only man that has ever loved me is dead, and I never got to tell him that I…" a sob escape from her. "That I felt the same." She bit her lip.

"What about Sir Anthony?"

"He jilted me at the altar, remember. I don't think he ever loved me. Not really." She could not control herself anymore, she broke down.

Tom folded his arms around her. The poor woman really had rotten luck. He stroked her back until she calmed down.

"Thank you, Tom," she whispered sitting up straight. "I didn't mean to burden you with all my problems."

"I'm glad you did." He smiled gently.

Edith knew at that moment why Sybil had been so madly in love with him. He really was the best sort of man.

She sighed. "I'll have to avoid you for the next month."

"Why?" He still had his arm around her shoulder.

"Because I've just told you that not only have I had…relationships… with two married men." She looked at him fleetingly, her brown eyes filled with embarrassment.

There came a sudden feeling from his heart that blocked out all sense. Tom took his arm from her shoulder and cupped her face. She gasped and looked into his eyes.

"Edith, everything will be all right. I promise. You are beautiful and smart and somewhere there is a man who would see that." He wiped the tears from her cheeks. "You just hold on." He kissed her on the forehead.

"Please tell me that was not out of pity." Her voice was a deathly whisper.

"No, it wasn't."

They both jumped up as someone came into the room.

"There is a telephone call for you, Milady." Edna stared from the one to the other, her expression growing more murderous by the second.

"Thank you, Edna," they both said and walked out past her. Thank the stars for the distraction.

"Hallo, this is Edith Crawley," she answered the phone. Tom wanted to leave, but she held his arm. "Wha…what?" He looked at her frowning. "All right, thank you." she said after a moment and hung up.

"What?" Tom asked.

"A police officer is coming here in the morning." She could not even throw up.

"What for?" His frown was a canyon now.

"Lizzy Gregson is missing from the psychiatric ward."


	7. Chapter 7: July, 1922

**July, 1922**

"For heaven's sake, Papa!" Edith shouted. "I need to go to London!"

"Over my dead body are you leaving this house!" Her father shouted back.

"I have business there that needs attending to immediately. I'll be leaving in the morning." Edith said stubbornly.

"You don't have business in London anymore, have you?" Her mother was trying to lessen the tension.

"Of course I do." Edith glared at her mother.

"How can you when…" her mother whispered.

"When Michael is dead?" Her voice was ice now.

"Well…Yes."

"Well, Mama, he had pieces that he was working on that I'm trying to finish." Edith said simply.

"What pieces did he have, I thought that he was an editor?" Her father said condescendingly.

"He was also an investigative journalist."

"Good Lord, that sounds ominous." Mary said.

"It's not!" Edith shouted again.

"Calm down, Edith!" Her mother said firmly.

"How can I when you are keeping me prisoner?"

"How can we not if there is a mad woman out there wanting to kill you?" Her father said softly.

"We don't know that she is out to get me, Papa. It's been almost a month since she disappeared."

"Well, I'll not take any chances." Her father said with finality.

Edith threw down her napkin and left the breakfast table. "I thought I was going to die of spinsterhood, now I know I'm going to die of imprisonment!"

* * *

Mrs. Hughes listened as Mr. Carson's laugh filled the hallway as he came in from outside. No doubt it was Lilith that made him laugh, she thought sadly. She had not liked the girl when she first came here, but she had to admit that she admired Lilith for the way she could make Mr. Carson smile.

They came down the hall. There was a knock at the door and Mr. Carson came in. Mrs. Hughes pretended to be absorbed in her books. She had a bit of time before getting ready for the afternoon so she had them open in front of her.

"Mrs. Hughes, can I bother you for a minute?" He asked.

"Sure, Mr. Carson." She turned around and saw that there was still a smile on his face. "What can I do for you?"

"I just want to make sure if everything is ready for young Master Robert's birthday on Wednesday."

"Yes, I believe we are ready, Mr. Carson. I just need to sort out the flowers with Mr. Crooks."

"Oh, I could do that for you." He offered.

"No, thank you, Mr. Carson. You have your hands full with the upstairs crowd. We know it is actually just a tea party for Lady Mary." She closed her books. It was time she did her rounds upstairs and checked on the maids.

He chuckled. "Well, you are right."

"Walk with me?" she said.

He held the door for them. "After you." He smiled.

He really was in a good mood since Lilith came, she thought. She did not know why it saddened her so much. She shook her head at her thoughts.

"Everything all right, Mrs. Hughes?" he asked perplexed. He could not understand the sadness that has come over her lately.

"Perfectly, Mr. Carson."

They walked into the servant's hall. James was playing a little tune on the piano. Lilith was standing by him and singing softly along. "dashing me with a smoothing iron, she stole my heart away."

Mrs. Hughes froze as she heard these words. She saw Mrs. Patmore came into the hall and they looked at each other. It's been two years since she heard these words, the only difference being that the last time they came from Mr. Carson.

Mr. Carson clapped as Lilith finished her song. "That was lovely," he said.

"Thank you, Mr. Carson." She smiled shyly.

"Well, you had better get back to work," Mr. Carson said. "You too, James." His voice was a tinge more unfriendly toward James.

"Mrs. Hughes, are you all right?" Lilith asked.

"Yes." She simply answered. A bell on the wall rang. "I better see to that." She turned around and walked out. Mr. Carson followed her.

"Are you sure you are all right, Mrs. Hughes?" Mr. Carson had stopped her by taking her hand as she walked up the stairs.

"Yes, Mr. Carson. I'm just late doing my rounds and I have to see to the flowers." She looked down at him. They were not aware that Lilith was watching them. Mrs. Hughes smiled at him. He had lost his smile of earlier and she was the cause of it. Her stupid heart. "Really, Mr. Carson," her hand automatically went to stroke his cheek as she had imagined doing so many times before, but she stopped herself and rather placed it on his shoulder. "Don't worry, so much, Mr. Carson." She tried to give him a smile.

"All right, but you'll say if something is wrong, won't you?"

"Yes, I will."

Lilith watched Mrs. Hughes go up the stairs and Mr. Carson turn back to his pantry.

"Mrs. Patmore…" She turned to the cook, who was still standing there. "What's going on there?"

"Don't worry yourself about them, dear girl. They've been friends for decades."

"I have friends, Mrs. Patmore, and I don't act like that around them."

"Don't get involved." Mrs. Patmore said simply. She was not going to lie about her friends, because their actions made it plain and simple that they loved each other.

"If you say so, Mrs. Patmore." Lilith was determined to do something about her butler and housekeeper.

* * *

"Lady Salisbury, forgive me for being late," Edith said out of breath as she took her seat opposite Lady Salisbury. "I missed the three o' clock train."

"It's not like you to be late, Edith." Lady Salisbury said in a clipped voice.

"I couldn't get out of the house as fast as I wanted."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, my parents don't actually know that I'm here." Edith said blushing. She had slipped out of the house after lunch, but it had carried on later than usual.

"What are you not telling me?"

"It doesn't matter," she said unlocking the door to Gregson's office. We can go in." She held the door for the stately woman and they entered. "I don't know why you asked to meet me at Mr. Gregson's office." Edith said. Everybody was leaving for the day.

"I wanted some privacy, Lady Edith." she said coughing slightly. Lady Salisbury was icier than the last time they spoke.

"Are you all right, Lady Salisbury?"

"No, not really."

"Why, what happened? Please, sit down." Edith offered her a chair.

"My granddaughter is missing." She said with a choked voice.

"What do you mean missing?"

"I mean that little more than a month ago I had sent her to Paris for the season and about three weeks ago her maid finally let me know that she was missing. At that time she had been missing for about three weeks."

"Oh, my, have you filed a report?" Edith asked.

"No."

"You should! What would the scandal be if the world found out the Prime Minister's granddaughter had been missing for three weeks before he reported it?"

"I am very well aware of the consequences of my husband's inaction, Lady Edith. He is just…just a bit out of sorts lately."

Edith stared at her. It was clear that Lady Salisbury did not want to talk about her granddaughter anymore, but the whole affair was very strange. "How can I help you?" she asked rather.

"You can help me by helping me to find out who is behind the false accusations that has been swamping my husband's office."

"What kind of accusations?"

"Didn't you read the file?" Lady Salisbury asked incredulously.

"No, you told me not to." Edith said nervously. She was not this cold that day they had met in the park. Edith had thought then that she was warm and motherly, but now it seems that Lady Charlotte Cavendish was an iron lady.

"Good gracious girl, you would be sunk in politics. Anyway, there have been accusations concerning embezzlement and orphan trafficking."

"Good Lord," Edith said surprised, "why hasn't this been in the papers?"

"Because I am paying Sir Richard Carlisle an exuberant amount to keep it quiet."

"Ah, say no more." Edith said drily, and after a moment, "All right, so we have to find out who's behind it?"

"Yes. My husband's political future depends on it."

"Well, then, we'll have to employ Richard Carlisle a little differently." Edith stated simply. The way she saw it is that he would relish an exclusive. "Rather than paying him for keeping it out of the papers, promise him an exclusive when we break the case, and tell him to help," Edith explained, "I swear that man has more spies than the secret service.

They went on discussing the case until everyone had left already. Mercy was the last one out. She popped her head around the doorframe. "Shall I lock downstairs, Milady?"

"No, it's alright, Mercy. We're coming now as well." Edith said packing up the files. She saw Mercy leave.

"What about your granddaughter?" asked Edith as stored the files in the cabinet.

"She'll turn up again."

"Does she disappear often?" Edith asked shocked.

"Well, there was a time before her first season when she ran away to Paris. She wanted to become a stage performer, can you believe that?"

"A Marquis's granddaughter?"

"She's the daughter of a duke. Conwy, he's a Welshman."

"General Stanley?"

"Yes. The same. Joseph Stanley, the duke of Conwy."

They walked down to the entrance of the building but they found the entrance blocked by a young woman.

"Can I help you?" Edith asked.

"Yes." The woman simply stared at her, inhaling a cigarette. There was a funny smell in the air.

"Edith…" lady Salisbury whispered.

"Who are you?" asked Edith.

"Who are you?"The woman echoed. Edith looked at Lady Salisbury.

"I'm Edith Crawley, and you are?"

The woman took out a frumpled piece of paper and handed it to Edith. "This Edith?" she asked.

Edith looked at the paper. It was the photo of her cutting the ribbon of the orphanage almost two months ago. "Yes." she answered.

"Well, then, I'm Elizabeth Gregson, and you stole my husband." She let her cigarette fall.

* * *

"WHAT do you mean you don't know where she is!" shouted Lady Grantham at Edna.

"She's not in her room, Milady."

"You've said that already, but this is a big house. She must be somewhere."

"What's going on?" Robert asked coming down the stairs.

"Edith isn't here." Cora said icily.

"Of course she is." Robert said.

"No she isn't." They all looked at where Tom stood at the library door.

"Where is she?" Cora asked him.

"I have a feeling she is in London," he said joining them.

"Good, God. I told her not to go." Robert said.

"When did she leave?" asked Cora.

"I don't know, but I haven't seen her since lunch and you remember how fired up she was yesterday." Tom looked worried. Edith was every bit as stubborn as Sybil, and Sybil would have gone to London.

"Edna, go and get Pratt." Lord Grantham barked.

She scuttled off just as the telephone rang. Carson, who had been standing at attention at the dining room door, made to answer it. "It's all right, Carson. I've got it." said Lord Grantham.

"Yes?" He said shortly. "Rosamund?"

Lady Grantham came to stand with her ear against the ear piece. She could just make out Rosamund's voice.

"Robert… There's been a fire at _The Sketch_." Rosamund said gravely.

"What, you mean the newspaper offices?" His heart began to thump.

"Yes. I'm afraid…I'm afraid Edith was there…she's at Saint Catherine's hospital." Rosamund trailed off.

"No!" Lady Grantham sobbed before fainting. Carson was just in time to catch her.


	8. Chapter 8

_Another long one... Hope it's not too much of a shlep. I would appreciate any advice, comments or criticisms._

_:)_

Mr. Carson sat with his head in his hands. Mrs. Hughes sat quietly opposite him. "What in God's name is wrong with the world, Mrs. Hughes?" He mumbled this and she had to sit closer. She took his hands away so that she could hear his voice. The last three hours was absolute chaos. Dinner, needless to say, had gone to the dogs, so to speak, because the whole Abbey was in frenzy about Lady Edith. From what Lord Grantham could gather after he woke nearly half of London in his frantic attempts to find out about his daughter, all they could tell him was that there had been some sort of explosion at the offices and that it looked like an act of arson. Bates and Lilith had to scurry around to get His Lordship and Ladyship packed to go to London. They had just left a half an hour ago, at which time Carson came down to his pantry. Mrs. Patmore had tea ready for them.

She just held his hands and looked at him. Her words failed her.  
"I mean, arson? At _The Sketch_?"

She shook her head. "I can't understand it myself, Mr. Carson."

He gave a shuddering sigh in an attempt to regain control, which only made her want to soothe him more. He got up and pulled her with him.

"We have to go and see to the servants." she whispered.

He nodded and turned to the door. He only let one of her hands go. At the door he stopped. "Thank God for you, Mrs. Hughes." he said.

Her heart stopped at that. "Why?" she breathed.

"No matter what happens, you are the one constant," He lifted her hand and kissed it lightly. She nearly fainted. "I really don't know how… Downton could function without you."

It was like a slap in the face. "I'm glad you think so, Mr. Carson." she said and let go of his hand.

* * *

Lilith stood at the door of Lady Grantham's room watching her pace up and down. They had come to Lady Rosamund's house and they were now waiting. Lady Grantham had still not warmed to her completely and she was not sure how she should comfort her.

Lady Grantham stopped to look out the window. "Do you believe in God?" She said in a whisper.

It was an unexpected question and Lilith did not know how to answer. "In some way, Milady."

"I don't know if I do anymore." She said in a dead voice.

"Why?" Lilith knew the answer, but she wanted to keep the conversation going.

"Why!" Lady Grantham shouted, "Because I've lost a son at the hands of my lady's maid. My youngest daughter died of eclampsia because of one egotistical doctor and her daughter will never know her sweet mother. And now my middle daughter might be dying," a sob racked her body. "It isn't fair." She crumpled to the floor and sobbed. Lilith went to her and put her arms around her.

"I might not believe in God as I should, Milady," she whispered, stroking her back, "but I do know, God or no God, there must be a reason for every action and consequence."

"How can you say that?" Lady Grantham howled pushing her away. "I did not deserve this!"

"I'm not saying you did, Milady, but…"

"You're only saying this because you don't know anything about loss!" Lady Grantham hissed.

"That's not true, Milady. I know my fair share of loss."

Lady Grantham stopped crying for a moment. "How so?"

"Well, my father died in action during the battle of the Sorbonne and my mother died in Paris when they bombed Le Gare de l'Este. She had just come from the frontline where she had worked in the hospital. She was on her way to see me and she was catching the train when they bombed the station"

Lady Grantham sat silently for a moment. "How did you not lose your mind?"

"I did. I ran away to Paris to try and find out what happened to my mother. We never even buried her," she sighed. "I can't fully explain what I believe, Milady, but I just know that I can't live my life without the belief that somewhere somehow it all makes sense. Otherwise I would lose my mind."

Lady Grantham wiped her tears. "I'm sorry about what I said."

"Don't be, Milady." Lilith smiled at her and got up. She held out her hand to Lady Grantham.

She took it and Lilith pulled her up. She knew then that she had won her over. They would be all right now.

There was a brief knock at the door and Rosamund came rushing in. "Robert's called," she said a bit out of breath. "Edith is all right."

"Thank God!" Lady Grantham gasped.

"You have to come with me now. There's something else…" Rosamund kept quiet.

Lady Grantham frowned. "What is it?"

"I can't tell you here."

"You can say anything in front of Miss Davies."

"No, I can't. I've been ordered not to." Rosamund said. She looked at Lilith. "I'm sorry, Miss Davies. I hope you understand?"

"Of course," she said. "I'll wait outside." She walked to the door.

"No, we have to go out," Rosamund said looking at Lady Grantham. "Please help her to freshen up." She looked at Lilith in a way that emphasized that order. She was not about to tell Cora in front of her lady's maid that Edith had been rescued from the fire by the Prime Minister's wife.

* * *

Mr. Carson looked horrified at the sight of Mrs. Patmore running across the court yard. "What in the name of..." He said sternly.

"She's all right," heaved Mrs. Patmore. "Lady Edith is all right. Mister Branson's had a call from Lord Grantham."

"Thank God!" Mr. Carson sighed. "I can't have taken another death."

"Where's Mrs. Hughes?" asked Mrs. Patmore.

"I don't know. I was looking for her just now."

"I think she said something about cancelling the flowers for young Robert's party."

"Oh, then she must be with Mr. Crooks. I saw him in the west garden this morning."

They walked there but stopped dead in their tracks when they saw Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Crooks sitting together on a bench. They were talking. "What the…?" Mr. Carson said. He saw Mr. Crooks take Mrs. Hughes' hand and kissed it, very much the same way he had just the previous evening. "What!" he hissed. Mrs. Patmore held him back. They looked on as Mr. Crooks picked a rose and give it to Mrs. Hughes. She blushed, but took it. "What is she thinking, that she would prefer him to…" he broke off. He could not speak so frankly in front of Mrs. Patmore.

"Prefer him to what, Mr. Carson? A Butler?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, yes, or a doctor or a banker, any respectable profession, really." He said, still looking. Mrs. Hughes was heading their way, but she had not yet seen them.

"Good grief, Mr. Carson, I've never pegged you for the snob." Mrs. Patmore said.

"I am most certainly not a snob, I just think she can…"

"Do much better?" she asked. Mrs. Hughes had seen them now and she was heading to them.

"What's the matter?" she asked seeing the thunder on Mr. Carson's face.

"We've come to tell you that Lady Edith will be all right. They've phoned from the hospital." Mr. Carson said.

"Oh that's wonderful!" she exclaimed.

"They will keep us updated." said Mrs. Patmore.

"Good, I'll go and tell the maids." She said and continued to the house, twirling the rose in her hand

"I'll tell you a secret, Mr. Carson," Mrs. Patmore said scolding up at him. "The reason why Mrs. Hughes 'choses' a gardener, is because the butler has never given her a choice." At that she stomped away leaving Mr. Carson with his thoughts.

* * *

"So she really did try to kill her?" Lord Grantham said quietly. He and Lady Grantham were seated in the doctor's rooms where the police officer had just been briefing them on the investigation. The body of Lizzy Gregson has been found at the scene of the fire.

"But, how sure can you be it was her?" Lady Grantham asked.

"Each patient at the ward has tags. She was still wearing hers," the doctor answered. "So we are very sure. And she had not been so badly burned as to be unrecognizable…"

"Please, doctor. We don't need to hear that sort of detail." Lord Grantham said, turning slightly green.

"The point of the matter is that your daughter is safe now," said the doctor, "but she has to be sent to the sanatorium. Her longs were damaged, and she needs specialists to take care of her."

"What about Lady Salisbury?" asked Lady Grantham. That had been almost as great a shock; finding out that her daughter was rescued by Lady Charlotte Cavendish. They are not quite sure how it happened, but firefighters found them under the staircase, with Lady Salisbury lying on top of Edith, as if to protect her.

"She will be going as well."

"What, don't they have doctors that can care for her somewhere in Switzerland, or someplace like that?" asked Robert, "I mean, the Prime Minister must have connections?"

"Yes, but to minimize any sort of scandal, he thought it best to send her to a… less conspicuous place."

"These politicians would have their own family locked up for the sake of avoiding scandal." Lady Grantham said flushed.

"It seems to be the case." The doctor cleared his throat. Actually, the Prime Minister had asked him to send her to Switzerland, but he thought it better that both of them recuperate at the same resort. To hell with Lord Salisbury wanting his wife out of the picture.

"How long will she have to stay?" Lady Grantham asked.

"For about a month."

"And we won't be able to go visit her?" asked Lord Grantham.

"Well, it is rather far away, but you can go with her until you get to the Ripon stop. Then you'll be able to see that she is cared for and you can go home and she and Lady Salisbury can go on to Radley House.

"Will her health be restored?" Lord Grantham asked.

"I believe so. She is young and healthy."

"I've heard that before." Muttered Lady Grantham.

* * *

"Ah, it's good to be back," Lilith said sitting down at the table in the servants' hall. The family had just returned from London and Lady Grantham had gone to bed early. The servants were still busy with dinner. "I swear I didn't sleep a wink all week, it was so busy."

"It's good to have you back." Mr. Carson said to the surprise of all the other servants present. They still could not understand his preferential treatment of her.

"They still won't tell us what happened, though," Lilith added. "Did his Lordship say anything to you?" she asked looking at Mr. Bates.

"No, not really." He thought for a moment.

"What do you think happened?" ask Mrs. Hughes.

"Well, they won't tell us for sure, but it sounded like someone was there with Lady Edith and that that someone had saved her life by dragging her under the stairs. We just don't know who that someone is."

"My, my, it sounds like a murder mystery." Mrs. Patmore said from the kitchen door.

"I think I can help you with that." Everybody looked at Alfred.

"What do you mean?" Mr. Carson asked.

"I've had a letter from my aunt." He said turning red.

"Oh, well, then we don't need to bother." Carson said waiving his hands in dismissal.

"No, Mr. Carson. Let the boy speak," said Mrs. Hughes patting his hand. "Go on, Alfred."

"Well, she's in London living with my mother who is a nurse. Her friend was on duty that evening, when Lady Edith was taken to St. Catherine's. And…" Alfred looked at the people staring at him.

"Are you going to keep us hanging?" asked Mr. Carson taking a sip of his tea.

"Well… It was the Prime Minister's wife."

Mrs. Hughes was sprayed with tea from the side and from the front as Mr. Carson and Lilith both spit out their tea.

"What do you mean, the Prime Minister's wife came in with her?" blustered Mr. Carson when he had stopped coughing.

"I mean to say Mr. Carson, that according to my mother's friend, Lady Charlotte Cavendish was with her in the fire."

"Why hasn't that been in the papers?" shouted Mr. Carson.

"Mr. Carson, calm down." Mrs. Hughes said in a voice she only used with wayward servants.

"Was she hurt?" It was the first Lilith said after Alfred's revelation.

"No. Not worse than Lady Edith." Alfred answered.

Lilith breathed out at this. "Excuse me." She stood up and left through the back door to the courtyard.

Mr. Carson made to go after her, but Mrs. Hughes held him back. "It won't be proper for you to go, Mr. Carson," she whispered barely audible.  
"I'll go and check on her." Thomas said. He had seen Lilith's pained expression and it struck him as very odd that a servant would be so undone by such news. He got up and walked out. He smelled a story.

"Mr. Carson, you and I need to have a talk. Now." Mrs. Hughes said firmly as she got up to go to her study.

* * *

Thomas went to stand by Lilith against the wall. "Smoke?" he said, offering her a cigarette. She shook her head and sniffed away the tears. "No, I have asthma."

"You know," Thomas said after a while, "it strikes me as odd that you would cry over a politician." He inhaled his cigarette leisurely, but blew the smoke away from her.

Lilith said nothing.

"You look a bit like her, you know," Thomas added after a while of silence. "Quite more than a bit, now that I think about it. I'm guessing you're her granddaughter? She's too old to be your mother." She still did not say anything. "I'm guessing Mr. Carson knew who you were, in which case, there are some people that will _not _be happy to find out about it."

"You leave Mr. Carson out of this!" she hissed.

"So I'm right?" Thomas smirked. "That's why Mr. Carson gave you such preferential treatment. Not that I mind, though, seeing as I am under butler. Mmmm… I can see a job opening in the future…"

The next moment he was pinned to the wall with such force it almost took his breath out of him. Lilith had her face millimeters away from his and she was almost spiting sparks in her anger.

"Thomas Burrow, if you ruin Mr. Carson's career, I swear I will kill you."  
"What is an aristocrat like you doing here, then?" he asked intrigued.

"That is none of your business." she let him go. She raked through her hair. "Listen, Thomas, I know you can be a right bastard when you want to be and that you won't stop until you have what you want, but do you really want to destroy your family with your ambition."

"They are not my family!"

"No? Then why did they work so hard to keep you here after your altercation with Jimmy?" She arched a brow at him.

"How do you know about that?" He asked nervously. It has been years since he last thought about that horrible time.

"Oh, please, Thomas, you act as if people don't gossip," She gave a cynical laugh. "The point I'm trying to make is, that if you blow the whistle on me, you may very well cost Mr. Carson his job, but you'll also still remain under-butler."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do. No right-minded person will hire a selfish prick like you, who doesn't know how to spell 'house', never mind knows how to put this one first."

"How dare you…" He stepped closer balling his fists.

"Oh come on, Thomas," she said unfazed, "Even you can see that Mr. Carson has given his life to Downton. It can't be different for you if you want to be as good as him. Why don't you just wait until he retires? It can't be more than a year or two until he does."

Thomas gave her a venomous look, but he had to concede, she had a point.

"In the meantime you can work on not being such a bastard. And then, when the time comes, they actually might _want_ to hire you as Mr. Carson's successor."

Thomas said nothing, but only straightened his lapel.

"Good. I'm glad we understand each other." Lilith said and walked back inside.

* * *

"Mr. Carson, I can no longer stand by and watch how you treat that girl like she's on a pedestal." Mrs. Hughes stared hard at Mr. Carson, who was staring into the empty fireplace. His heart was still beating erratically from the shock of Alfred's news, and it became more erratic when he felt how she cupped his face with her hands and turned it towards her. Her hazel eyes were agitated.

"Mr. Carson, what in heaven's name is wrong with you?" He swore he saw a shimmer in her eye.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Hughes." He turned fully towards her. She let her hand slip from his face then.

"You've been saying that quite often recently, Mr. Carson, without any further explanation." She turned away from him but he could see that she was hurt.

"What happened to us, Mr. Carson?" she went to lean on her desk.

His heart kicked at the question. "What do you mean by 'us', Mrs. Hughes?"

"You used to tell me when something was wrong, and you still expect me to, but you don't do the same."

He was speechless. Had Lilith really made him so preoccupied that there had come a wedge between him and Mrs. Hughes? He could not let that happen. If he drove her away, he would truly have no one.

"Mrs. Hughes…"

"It's all right, Mr. Carson. I understand that you have…issues, and that you…" The rest of her sentence died because he held his hand to her lips. He could not take this anymore. "Mrs. Hughes, please come sit here." He pulled her to the settee and sat beside her. She was silent.

"The reason for my unprofessional, no listen," he held up his hand at her protest, "the reason for my unprofessional behavior was that Lilith reminded me of someone."

"You said." Whispered Mrs. Hughes.

He was silent for a moment. Where to start? "You know that I grew up in Devonshire, right?"

"Yes…"

"Well, my father was the parish minister for the Lord James Radcliff."

"Yes, the Duke of Devonshire, I know." Mrs. Hughes was frowning now, she did not know where this was going.

"Well…" Mr. Carson felt himself flush, "The Duke had a daughter…Charlotte…and…and she looks so much like Lilith…"

Mrs. Hughes was silent for a moment processing what he had said, "So…Mr. Carson…I take it that you had…feelings…for Charlotte?"

"Yes." He could not tell her everything. He just could not.

His candid answer made her look at him and she saw so much pain in his eyes that it took her breath away.

"I cared for her, but it did not work out. I went into service and she…married Harold Cavendish."

"The Prime Minister!"

"Yes."

"Good, Lord, Mr. Carson." She knew she was not being very professional, but she could not help it.

"Well, anyway, now you know."

"Did you love her?" She had to know…

"Yes, I did, very much." Now she understood why he doted so on Lilith.

He looked at his hands and swallowed hard. He did love her. For twenty years he loved her until they parted ways on that godforsaken day… And then he still pined for her as a footman, a world away from her. He looked up again at the sound of Mrs. Hughes voice.

"Thank you for telling me, Mr. Carson." She said so sweetly that his heart melt. All was good again between them.  
"Thank you for not judging."

"One can never judge matters of the heart, Mr. Carson."

* * *

_Hope you enjoyed this, please review the story thus far._


	9. Chapter 9: August, 1922

_Thanks to __**NHas **__for the advice given. I had to changes Mrs. Hughes' eye colour and Thomas's surname spelling... And I also changed the name of the train station mentioned in the previous chapter._

_Sorry for taking so long with the update, but now at least I've finished the story and will be able to update every day. All is done, but I don't want to give you too much to read._

_Enjoy and please review._

_Oh, and happy belated New Years!_

_:)_

She was right, one can never judge matters of the heart, Mr. Carson thought in a huff as he watched Mrs. Hughes from the backdoor talking to Mr. Crooks. The man looked all too happy every time he saw her.

"Why, Mr. Carson. You look positively green." Lilith came to stand next to him, resting against the wall.

"I don't." Mr. Carson said frowning.

Lilith chuckled. "Mr. Carson, they are just friends, you know? He just wants to cheer her up."

He glared at her. "Don't overstep your boundaries, my dear."

"Why don't you give her a bunch of flowers? I'm sure it'll brighten her day. She's been a bit off lately."

He grunted something.

"Mr. Carson," They both turned to see Thomas standing at the backdoor. "His Lordship would like a word about the wine order, before they go to the station to fetch Lady Edith."

"Excuse me," Mr. Carson said to Lilith.

"Remember, Mr. Carson…" she coughed, "I beg your pardon…remember sunflowers…"

He gave her scathing look and left.

Thomas remained with Lilith. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, why?" She asked and went to sit on an empty crate.

"You look a little out of breath." He joined her.

"I'm all right." she sighed.

"I don't buy it." He said.

"Today would have been my mother's birthday." She pursed her lips.

"Would have been?"

"She died." Lilith put her head on her knees.

"War or flu?"

"What!" Her head whipped up.

"How did she die?"

"Can't you have asked that nicer?" she seethed.

"It came out wrong, sorry."

"War. She was at the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Weren't they all?" He said leaning back and stretching his legs.

Lilith looked at him a moment as if to size him up. He hadn't yet told anyone who she was. She wandered whether she could trust him. She hesitantly took a photo out of her front pocket. "Here, she was a nurse."

He took it and immediately frowned. "Where was she stationed?"

"At the battle of the Sorbonne, or, that's where she and my father worked before she was killed, and my father…" she trailed off.

"Your name isn't Lilith, is it?"

"What, of course it is!" She paled at this and gave another cough.

"No, it isn't, if memory serves me correctly, and I never forget, you would be Adara and your mother was Lady Catherine Talbot Rhys." He looked at her as if he had stated an absolute fact.

"How do you know that?" she breathed heavily.

"Because your mother was the nurse that took care of me after this." He held up his damaged hand for her to see.

Tears streaked Lilith's face. "How was she? I hadn't seen her before she died."

"She's a trooper, I'll tell you that. I remembered telling her she would put Mr. Carson to shame after she had gone off at one of the young nurses for doing something improper."

Lilith laughed bleakly, "Mama was terribly proper…" She wiped her tears.

"She looked fine when I saw her. We exchanged quite a lot of stories about Downton and Devonshire. She talked a lot about you."

Lilith smiled. "I'm so glad to hear that. Her death has been hanging on me like a tarred mantle for many years."

He only looked at her, waiting for her to finish her story.

"You see, she came back, or she was coming back. I had gotten a telegram from her. It was very strange for her to come back during a field assignment. I never found out why she came back because she died shortly after arriving in Paris, the train station was bombed." she took a shuddering breath. "I'd like to know why, Thomas."

He took her hand, "Don't let it win you, Lilith. You can't explain everything. Sometimes you just don't know, but you could ask Lord Grantham to write to the war office. I know some people are still receiving lost letters and such like. Maybe they could help."

She thought for a moment, "I'll ask him tomorrow, after the huff of Lady Edith's return has passed."

* * *

"Robert, we must be going. Edith will be waiting for us at the station if we don't leave now…oh, I forgot my gloves!" Cora said. She jumped up and rang the bell.

"Yes, Milady?" Jimmy said walking in.

"Can you please ask Miss Davies to fetch my gloves? I left them on the dresser."

"Certainly." Jimmy said and disappeared.

"I really hope that you would talk to Edith about not going back to the dreadful sin mill."

"You mean the paper?" Mary asked.

"Quite, frankly, Mama, I'm just happy to have my daughter back." Robert said scolding.

"Of course. I just hope that she has this journalism thing out of her system now."

"I don't know, I think Edith's found her metier." Mary said.

"Can't she have a normal life? First it was farm labouring, then column writing and now investigative journalism!"

"I thought you supported her?" Tom said looking at the Dowager.

"Living her life, yes, meddling in others', absolutely not." she answered.

The door opened and Lilith came in. "Here you go, Milady." she said walking to Cora and handed her the gloves.

"Thank you," Cora said. "You look a little piqued?"

"I'm all right, Milady." Lilith smiled faintly.

"How are you settling in, Miss Davies?" asked the Dowager.

"Oh, I'm settling in just fine, Milady." she said a little out of breath.

"Are Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson working you too hard?"

"No, Milady, not at all. They've been nothing but kind."

"Well… Mama, we have to go," Robert interrupted.

Lilith bowed and left.

"Cora, that girl does not look well."

"Oh, I'm sure she's fine."

* * *

"Lilith, will you just sit down!" Mrs. Hughes pushed her into a chair.  
"What's wrong with you?" Thomas stood next to Mrs. Hughes looking worried.

"I'm all right." Lilith sank into the chair. She was terribly out of breath as she returned from upstairs.

"You are not all right." Mrs. Hughes said sternly.

"I think you should go to bed." Thomas said.

"It's not for you to say, Mr. Barrow." Lilith spat.

"I agree with Mr. Barrow," Mrs. Hughes said. "Go to bed now. You're no use in this state.

"I'll take you up." Thomas said and took her arm.

"What are you thinking, Mr. Barrow? You can't go up there!" Mr. Carson had come in from upstairs.

"Madge," Mrs. Hughes said to the maid that was coming in with laundry. "Please take Miss Davies up to her room. Make sure she gets into bed."

With that, Lilith was escorted up to the attics.

"She really does not look well," Mr. Carson said worried.

Thomas said nothing. He had a feeling she did not want the others to know about her mother. Since that night in the courtyard when she pinned him to the wall, and then again when they had spoken earlier today, he has gotten a new respect for her. He liked her all the more for being so deadly honest. He wished sometimes he could be like that.

* * *

"Oh, welcome home, my dear!" The Dowager kissed her granddaughter on her cheek.

"Hallo, Granny, have you missed me?" Edith teased her.

"You say that like it would be a foreign concept." The Dowager said tartly.

"Granny, may I introduce the Marchioness of…"

"She needs no introduction, dear," she said holding up her hand, then turning to the tall woman, "Lady Charlotte Cavendish, it is a pleasant surprise to meet you."

"A surprise, surely, Lady Grantham, I'm not so sure about pleasant." She smiled and they shook hands.

"I'm afraid there's been a delay in the trains to Devonshire for a few days," Edith explained. "And naturally we could not let her stay anywhere else."

"Naturally." Isobel added.

"I really wish it wasn't such a bother."

"Nonsense," said Cora. "I've already asked Mrs. Hughes to prepare a room and Carson to lay an extra plate."

"Mother, where is Dr. Clarkson?" asked Matthew. "He was going to join us, right?"

"Yes," said Isobel. "He will be here, he's just finishing up his rounds at the hospital before he comes."

Everybody turned at the sound of the door opening. Carson came in. "Luncheon is served."

Only decades of training prevented Carson from fainting at the sight of Lady Salisbury. He, however, was only a man, and froze at the sight of her, even though he knew she was there.

"Carson, I'm sure you know that Lady Salisbury will join us for a few days." Cora explained.

"Hallo, Charles." Lady Salisbury greeted him with a cool smile, her eyes, however, were on fire.


	10. Chapter 10

_I've decided to upload the remainder of the story in one go. I hope it doesn't destroy the experience and isn't to overwhelming. I won't be able to upload for a while as the academic side of life has to be rescued from looming life-support. And I want to put Chelsie to rest now.  
_

_Enjoy and please review.  
_

_:)_

* * *

"I quite forgot that Carson might know you," the Dowager said, "His been a part of this family for goodness how long."

"Well, we grew up together." said Lady Salisbury, she suppressed a cough.

Carson stood at the sideboard, still as a statue, heart very nearly at a standstill. How on earth did _this _happen, he wondered.

"What is it, darling?" Isobel whispered seeing Dr. Clarkson looking intently at Lady Salisbury.

"Oh, nothing, I'm just wondering whether she has recovered quite so well as Lady Edith."

"Unlikely. She's about four decades older than her." Isobel said.

"Dr. Clarkson," Lady Grantham said, "Would you be so kind as to examine Lady Edith after lunch?"

"Certainly." the doctor concented. He was about to suggest it anyway.

"Oh, Mama!" Edith said blushing. "I'm fine."

"I just want to make sure." her mother said stubbornly.

"I could examine you, as well, Lady Salisbury."

"I really don't need to be examined, Doctor." she said coldly. He heard her cough slightly again, after which he insisted, "It would give us all peace of mind, Milady."

"_I_ have peace of mind, Doctor. That is all that matters."

Dr. Clarkson had to grab Isobel's hand under the table to keep her from commenting.

* * *

"Mr. Carson!" shrieked Mrs. Hughes, seeing his feet sticking out from behind his desk. She ran around it, heart in her throat. "What in devil's name are you doing?" She stood over him.

Mr. Carson was lying flat on his back staring at the ceiling. "I'm processing, Mrs. Hughes."

"Get up, please," she held out her hand. He got up and she pulled him upright. He wanted to slump down in his chair, but she took him by the hand and let him to her office and pushed him onto the settee. Then she went to the door and called, "Mrs. Patmore!"

"Yes?" the cooked asked popping her head around the door.

"Get some tea, please, and," she whispered. "put something stronger in it." She closed the door behind them.

"Mr. Carson, when have you _ever _let your personal feelings rule your professionalism? I know you've had a shock, but shock has never been a problem for you." For the past two days, Carson has been avoiding going upstairs, Thomas did not mind, but she did. It was not like Charles Carson to ever sacrifice style and duty for matters of the heart. She would know.

"Mrs. Hughes, you do not understand fully…" he said shaking his head.

"You may be right, but I've never seen you get so flustered by a woman. For God's sake, if you can handle the Dowager you can handle any woman, even the one from your past!"

"Mr. Carson, may I have a word with you?"

Both Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson spun around. So heated was their discussion that they did not hear Lady Salisbury enter the sitting room. Mrs. Hughes did not know what to say.

"Now would not be a proper time, Milady. I cannot be seen flouting my duties." With that, he walked out of the sitting room and upstairs.

"I apologize, Milady." Mrs. Hughes said blushing. She did _not _want to be in the same room as her.

"Don't apologise, Mrs. Hughes, Mr. Carson has every right to talk to me in that way."

Mrs. Patmore came in with the tea and almost spilled the tea from stopping so suddenly at the sight of the Marchioness, "Oh, I beg your pardon, Milady."

Lady Salisbury turned to Mrs. Hughes, "Mrs. Hughes, might I have a word with you now?"

Mrs. Hughes frowned, but consented. "Yes," She nodded at Mrs. Patmore. "You may put down the tray."

* * *

"Have you enough shade?" Tom led Edith to the bench under the big tree. They were taking a walk, as per the doctor's instructions."

"Tom, don't worry about me. I'm fine, truly." she said.

"I don't want you to be tired on my account." He said sitting down.

"Oh, my word, I've been cooped up for a month, so, please tire me. It's so good to be back at home after that prison."

"I remember distinctly how you called this house a prison as well..." he said mocking her.

"Never again will I say such foolish things." She laughed, and he could see that she was not well.

They fell silent for a while, then Edith said, "You know, I've been having terrible nightmares…"

"I can believe that." he said softly.

"I keep on smelling the petrol. I can't believe I didn't notice it right away…"

"Don't start blaming yourself, Edith."

"I'm not blaming myself, not really. I was just so…clueless," She tried to blink away the tears, but when he pulled her closer she gave up and let it run down her cheeks.

After calming down a bit she said, "I haven't felt safe in a long while…not until now…" she trailed off.

He put his cheek to her hair and said, "I'm glad you're back safely."

* * *

Mrs. Patmore stood at the grating by the back door. She could just about hear the conversation in Mrs. Hughes's sitting room, and what she heard made her hairs stand on edge and her heart shatter.

* * *

"Why do you think Lady Salisbury has been so rude to Dr. Clarkson about her examination?" Cora and Robert were walking the grounds like they always did.

"I don't know, dear," he said patting her hand. "I thought Isobel might have wanted to scratch out her eyes," He smiled at this thought. "She certainly hasn't cooled down yet."

"Yes, well, I'm glad that he got to see to Miss Davies too."

"Good grief, is she still out of breath?" He asked incredulously.

"Robert, she has asthma!" Cora said defending her maid.

* * *

"Thomas, you have to promise me to stay silent!" Lilith pleaded with him.

He had snuck into her room as he did the day her grandmother showed up at the house.

"Lilith, your grandmother is here, in this house, how can you refuse to see her? You know, she's not well. Even after a month in a sanatorium."  
Lilith bit her lip and then said in a whisper, "Please, Thomas. I can't face her yet."

"I can't be held responsible for you, Lilith." He said firmly and walked out.

* * *

"How long have you worked with Mr. Carson?" Lady Salisbury was seated on the settee and Mrs. Hughes was pouring her tea.

"Oh, about twenty-five years now." She handed her tea.

"Thank you," she said taking the offered cup. "You've known him longer and better than I do." she whispered.

"But you grew up together."

"Yes, we did, but I was eighteen when he left the village," She smiled sadly. "Actually, I drove him away…"

"You really needn't tell me, Milady." Mrs. Hughes said holding her hand as if to stop the flood of words from the other woman.

"No, Mrs. Hughes, I have to tell you, so that you may understand his behaviour."

Mrs. Hughes only sat and stared at her. She knew the words to follow will be painful. She took a deep breath. "All right, if you wish it, Milady."

Lady Salisbury got up went to stand by the fireplace. She fiddled with the figurines that stood there.

"You see, Mrs. Hughes… Charles and I were…in love."

"I know."

She looked around at this. "He really does trust you. What else did he tell you?"

"Nothing much." She was not about to lay Mr. Carson's heart bare for this woman to step on again.

"Did he tell you that we are married?"

Mrs. Hughes felt her life end. "No." she said with an astronomical effort.

"Well, on paper in any case. He proposed to me right before my first season, and I said that I would answer him after we got back. He had to wait nearly three months while I danced and dined in the high circles…" She broke off and stared out the window.

"What happened?"

"I said no," she looked at Mrs. Hughes again and pursed her lips to control her tears. "I had just come back from my first season. My father was already working on a match between me and Lord Salisbury, you see, my father was very power-hungry… but that's beside the point. I was star-struck, Mrs. Hughes." She came to sit on the settee again. "You have nothing to say?"

"I thought you said you were married."

"Well, he ran away with the travelling stage performers that were in town just at that time. He was always terribly good at singing, but he never wanted to make it his career." She smiled faintly. "I saw him again three or four years after that, as fate would have it, again at a carnival. At that stage, Lord Salisbury and I were already engaged and it was about two weeks before our wedding. But when I saw Charles again I knew marrying Harold would be the greatest mistake. I don't know how or why, but Charles said he wanted to marry me still, after all those years. We managed to go to a small village in Scotland, Argyll, where I knew they also wedded people like us. I did not want to go to Gretna, because I didn't want my father to find us." She took a sip of her tea.

"What went wrong?" Mrs. Hughes could not help asking questions. She was like a fly in the trap of the spider. Staring death in the face and still struggling, luring it closer.

"They found us," she answered simply. "Charles had gone to the shops, but he saw them – my father's henchman – take me."

"So you married Lord Salisbury, even though you were already married to Mr. Carson?" Mrs. Hughes had never in her life wanted to do physical damage to anyone as she wanted to do to Charlotte Cavendish at that very moment.

She kept quiet for a while, lost in thought, "I had no choice." she said, lips trembling.

"You were married by law! To a man who loved you," said Mrs. Hughes, quietly seething underneath the surface. "Choice was never an option."

Lady Salisbury opened her mouth to speak and closed it again. After a moment she said, "By the time I got back I was already pregnant."

Mrs. Hughes wanted to cry out to the heavens at this news. "Does he know?"

"No. When I got back, my father had already told his father and Mr. Carson cut his own son off. He couldn't go back to stage acting and he had no other profession, so to speak, so…God forgive me… I let him go... I married Harold the next day and we left for France."

"Are you still married to Mr. Carson?" Mrs. Hughes asked in an icy, levelled voice.

"Yes. My father couldn't have the marriage annulled because he was afraid that Lord Salisbury, Harold's father would find out, but I told Mr. Carson that my father annulled the marriage, because he would never have let me go if he knew the truth."

"Good God!" After a moment, she added. "What happened to your child?"

"Catherine was killed during the war," Lady Salisbury said with a sob, and then clenching her fists, "I think I've said enough."

"Yes, you certainly have." Mrs. Hughes stood up. She wanted this woman out of her sitting room. Immediately.

"Mrs. Hughes, please don't tell him that I've told you. I only want you to understand the situation. I can see he cares about you."

Mrs. Hughes shut her eyes briefly. "What do you mean to do? I mean, now that you've found him again?"

She smiled sadly, "You know, I used to have dreams about him, after I got married, especially after Catherine was born. For years actually…I cried out to him…" she broke of and then said firmly, "I'm going to do what I should have done years ago."

* * *

Mrs. Patmore found her friend leaning against the table, her fingers clawing into the wood, her chest heaving from keeping in the emotion.

"Mrs. Hughes…" she said quietly closing the door and locking it.

"Oh, Mrs. Patmore…" she whispered, looking up at the cook, "Mrs. Patmore…tell me what to do…" she clapped her hand over her mouth to silent the sobs that escaped her then.

Mrs. Patmore made her sit on the settee and held her tightly as the violent, almost silent, sobs ripped through her body.


	11. Chapter 11

_I had to read up a little for this chapter, so the events are not completely off course. Please review._

* * *

"Mr. Carson! Mr. Carson, wake up!" Mr. Carson woke up to find Mrs. Hughes standing over him, shaking him at the shoulder. For a few moments, he thought that he was dreaming. The clear moonlight through his window lit her face. Her braid fell over her shoulder with wisps of curls falling from her hairline. She had been crying…

"Mr. Carson, you have to come quick, it's Lilith, she's having an attack."

He jumped out of bed with such force that he knocked her into his chest of drawers. He did not even register her curves against him, only pulled her out of the door.

"Mr. Carson, what's wrong?" Thomas stood in the corridor and his eyes widened when he saw Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson emerge from the latter's room with great speed.

"Lilith's having an asthma attack." he answered and ran through the open door separating the bachelor's corridor from the maid's corridor.

"Shit!" Thomas ran after them.

Lilith was on the floor her feet flailing and her hands clawing at her throat, her breath rasping.

"Help her!" Edna screamed.

"Calm down!" Mrs. Hughes said with iron authority.  
"We have to let her sit up right." Thomas said as he and Mr. Carson knelt by her. Together they propped her up against the wall.

"Lilith, try to breathe in deeply." Mr. Carson said.

"It won't help, Mr. Carson. She can't," Thomas said. "Edna, go wake up Jimmy…"

"I'm here." Jimmy answered.

"Jimmy, do you know what belladonna looks like?"

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND!" Mr. Carson nearly knocked Thomas over in his fury.

"Mr. Carson!" Mrs. Hughes leapt forward and took hold of his shoulders.

"Mr. Carson, I had training in hospitals. I know what I'm doing!" Thomas said. "Do you know?" He looked at Jimmy again.

"Yes, I do."

"Then go and find me a plant. There's some in the greenhouse."

"I can't get in there. Mr. Crooks has the key." Jimmy said panicking.

"Break in, dammit!" Thomas shouted

"She's turning blue!" Edna yelled.

"Jimmy, GO!" Thomas shouted.

"Take the keys and Alfred with you." Mrs. Hughes said and handed him the keys. Jimmy and Alfred dashed out of the room.

"Lilith, you have to hold on for a couple of minutes. Can you do that?" Thomas asked kneeling at her side.

"She nodded, and then fell back against the wall as a new spasm hit her.

"We have to call Dr. Clarkson!" shouted Mr. Carson.

"It will be too late, Mr. Carson." Mrs. Hughes said.

"I won't let him give her poison!" he said desperately.

"Mrs. Hughes, I need the strongest alcohol you can find." Thomas said ignoring Mr. Carson.

"Mr. Carson. You have the keys to his Lordships private stash." she said.

He remained still, looking at her in horrified disbelief. "You'll side with him?"

"Mr. Carson," Thomas said with uncommon authority. "You have to trust me. The alcohol will take out the poison."

Mrs. Hughes pulled Mr. Carson out of the room.

Within minutes, they were back. Thomas had gone back to his room to retrieve his doctor's case. He had kept it stocked all these years, just in case.

"Where's Jimmy?" he asked looking up from where Lilith sat gasping. She was getting worse by the minute. Edna was applying eucalyptus oil on Lilith's neck and upper chest.

"WHAT are you doing?" Mr. Carson was ready to lunge at him again, but Mrs. Hughes held his arm.

"We've got it!" shouted Jimmy and Alfred clattering in. Alfred's hand was wrapped up in his nightshirt sleeve, blood seeping through. Jimmy was holding a plant in a piece of cloth, soil falling to the ground. He had ripped the whole plant out of the earth.

"Bring my gloves." He said to Jimmy.

In another minute Thomas had somehow gotten juice from the pulp of the plant and he was diluting it with copious amounts of Lord Grantham's favourite fortified wine.

He knelt by Lilith and was about to let her drink when Mr. Carson stopped him.

"Mr. Carson, you have to let me save her." He said softly.

Mr. Carson saw in his face that he was sincere and he let go.

"Lilith, try to drink this." he said.

Lilith gulped and spluttered at the strong, bitter taste.

Mr. Carson had gone out of the room. He could not watch. Mrs. Hughes was standing with him. She just held his hand, all thoughts of impropriety forgotten for the moment.

They heard Lilith wretch. Mr. Carson squeezed his eyes shut and Mrs. Hughes tightened her grip.

"Lilith, you have to drink it," they heard Thomas say desperately. Another series of coughs, rasps and splutters followed, and then, her breathing became calmer. They looked at each other and went inside again. Lilith was still gasping, but her breathing was slightly more regular and she was not blue anymore. Thomas was listening with a stethoscope at her lungs. "She'll be all right now. In another couple of minutes her breathing will be normal."

"Are you sure?" asked Mr. Carson.

"Yes," Thomas said turning back again and picking her up. He put her in bed, but kept her in an upright position. "You have to remain in a sitting position until you breathe normally, all right?" She only nodded and squeezed his hand.

He motioned for them both to follow him out of the room.

"What is it, Thomas?" Mrs. Hughes asked.

He looked from the deathly pale housekeeper to the ashen butler. "You have to inform Lady Salisbury of Lilith's attack."

Mrs. Hughes gasped as she felt another blow to her heart. Now it made sense why Mr. Carson was so attached to Lilith and why she looked so extraordinarily like the Marchioness.

"Why _must _we do such a thing?" Mr. Carson asked with thunder in his eyes.

"She's her granddaughter, Mr. Carson." answered Mrs. Hughes in a whisper.


	12. Chapter 12

"Why can't she sit with us anymore?" Ivy asked as she dished the servant's dinner.

"Because baronesses don't sit with servants." Thomas said silently. He missed her terribly. Lilith had moved into one of the rooms for the remainder of her Grandmother's stay.

"But she's not a baroness yet." she retorted.

"Lady Mary is not a countess yet; would you have her sit with us?"

"No, but…"

"Stop quibbling." Mr. Carson silenced them. He was still reeling from shock, but he felt strangely relieved. He had wondered at his attachment to the girl – the baroness, and now he knew.

* * *

"You promised NEVER TO LIE TO ME!" Lady Grantham was hysterical, but Lilith stood with her back to the door, not moving. She had come to her now after Mrs. Hughes had informed Lady Salisbury of the situation the previous day.

"Have you nothing to say for yourself?" Lady Grantham paced up and down her room like a panther in a cage and Lilith thought she was going to attack her any moment, with right.

"No, Milady, but I truly am sorry. More than I can ever tell you." She truly had no defence. She had lied to the Countess.

"I've heard those words before, _Adara_, and they mean nothing to me." she spat. "Please, leave."

* * *

"Thank you, Grandmother," Lilith said in an arctic voice, "for ruining everything."

"What are you talking about, Adara. You can't have thought that I would let you stay downstairs as a maid."

"Why not! It's the first place that I've ever felt like I belonged!"

"Don't talk rubbish; you are the daughter of a baron!" Lady Salisbury shouted equally icy.

"Yes, a daughter of a baron, but the granddaughter of a peasant." She said in a hiss.

Lady Salisbury paled at this, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, Granny, that you and Grandpapa fight too loudly. I heard what he said about you having an affair with a man before you married him."

Charlotte did not even think to deny it. She was so tired of lies and if she had any hope of rebuilding her life then she must tell the truth now. "You only heard half the conversation…"

"I've heard enough." Lilith said walking out.

"No! Wait, you have to give me a chance to explain!" Lady Salisbury said desperately before a coughing fit seized her.

Lilith came to her grandmother then, anger pushed away momentarily. She handed her a handkerchief and went to the table to get a glass of water.

Lady Salisbury sat on the bed, wiping her mouth and only just managed to hide the blood soaked cloth before Lilith handed her the glass of water.

"Adara, I don't know how your grandfather found out about…it, but I can promise you that it was not an affair. I was married to a man before I married your grandfather."  
"What!"

Lady Salisbury slowly repeated the story that she had told Mrs. Hughes.

"Good Lord, Grandmama! You mean to tell me that you and Grandpapa are not legally married?" Lilith sobbed

She nodded.

"You have to tell Mr. Carson, so that you can divorce him."

"I can't do that!" Lady Salisbury said, slightly hysterical.

"YOU HAVE NO CHOICE!" Lilith thundered.

* * *

Mrs. Hughes stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the giant bouquet of sunflowers on her desk. Who in the name of Gaya would send her sunflowers? Very few people know that she prefers sunflowers to any other.

"It was Lilith who pointed me in the right direction."

She spun around at Mr. Carson's deep voice behind her.

They went into her sitting room but she left the door open. "Why did you buy me flowers, Mr. Carson?"

"It is to say thank you for your support the night Lilith had her attack. I'm sorry that it is so late in coming."

"You shouldn't have." she whispered.

He looked up at the tone in her voice. "Why not? I'm allowed to buy you flowers, aren't I?"

Not actually, she thought. She sighed, "Thank you, Mr. Carson. It was very sweet of you." She turned to her desk. She did not want him to see the tears in her eyes.

Mr. Carson frowned at her cold attitude. The past few months he thought that they had become closer, and he found himself wanting to get even closer. Ever since Charlotte showed up, it is as if his eyes had opened to reality. "Mrs. Hughes, I know that you are shaken up about Lilith, but you shouldn't let it get you down.

You have no idea, she wanted to shout.

"Quite frankly, I'm relieved to know that she is Lady Salisbury's granddaughter."

"Why?" she turned to look at him. He was still standing at the door.

"Because, I couldn't explain my attachment to Lilith…Adara…and it grieved me. I thought I was being highly improper, as you so fervently reminded me." He smiled teasingly at this.

She could not stop the little sob that escaped her. She turned away from him again. He came towards her and put his hand on her shoulder, "Mrs. Hughes, what is the matter." She could hear the distress in his voice. With an almighty effort, she regained her composure and turned around to find him extremely close to her. She struggled away and went to stand by the settee. "I'm just being sentimental as usual, Mr. Carson. Don't fret yourself." She tried to smile.

"I do fret, Mrs. Hughes. How can I not?"

"Mr. Carson, I have a lot of work to do." She had to get him out of the sitting room.

She could see the shock skim his face. Never had she chased him out. "I apologize. I'll leave you to it then." He left at that. Something was terribly, terribly wrong with his housekeeper and there was only one person who could have caused it.


	13. Chapter 13

Dr. Clarkson came to an abrupt halt in his office doorway when he saw the silhouette of Lady Salisbury in front of the window.

"Lady, Salisbury, what a surprise."

She turns her head at the sound of his voice. "Really, Dr. Clarkson?" There is a bite of something in her voice… condescension. He grits his teeth and politely asks, "How may I help you, Milady?" He will not be the victim of her rancour again by offering advice.

She turns fully and walks to his desk. "Dr. Clarkson, don't make me doubt your ability as a physician." She looks at the chair and lifts her eyebrow.

"Please sit down," he says quickly as he walks forward to pull back the chair slightly. He walks around the desk to face her and sits down in his chair.

She continues. "You once offered to examine me, Doctor. Now I'm here."

He is stunned to silence for a few seconds. The cantankerous Lady Charlotte Cavendish is actually asking him for help. Without actually asking, of course.

He gets up to go to the hospital bed in the corner of his office. "Would you like me to telephone for someone at Downton to sit in?"

"If I wanted a witness, Dr. Clarkson, I would have brought one. Should I be worried about impropriety?" Again, her eyebrow lifts ever so slightly.

He straightens to his full height. "No. Please come to the bed." He cannot help to think that his statement did sound a little improper, but thankfully, she did not comment.

He felt nervous, just as nervous as when he ever examined the Dowager Countess. He cleared his throat in an attempt to calm his nerves. "I have to ask you, Lady Salisbury, have you had any breathing problems, coughing, since you came back from the sanatorium?"

"I have a little cough for a while, but it wasn't too bad, until yesterday when I coughed blood."

He frowned and put on his stethoscope. He held it to her back. "Breath in slowly," he asked.

She did and he listened intently. After listening he asked, "How long have you had the cough?"

"I didn't have it while I was at the sanatorium, or at least not at the beginning, but Sir Philip Tapsell examined me about a week before we left. Then I had it already." Clarkson froze at the name. She continued unaware, "He said it was normal. He said it was hay fever. " She snorted at the idea. "That sounded to me like a misdiagnosis."

"He has a propensity for those." he answered bitterly.

"What do you mean by that?"

"He ignored the signs of eclampsia in Lady Sybil Crawley."

She was stunned into silence. She did not ask any questions, to his relief. His lies to Lady Grantham still haunted him, even after two years. "Was about the cough was strange?"

"Well, at that stage the coughing wasn't so bad, and I did not sweat so much at night."

"I have to take an x-ray and draw some fluids."

"Do as you think is best, Dr. Clarkson."

* * *

Mr. Carson wanted to smash something. Charlotte had just told him the whole story and he sincerely wanted to break something, or several things.

"What do you mean to achieve by this confession, Charlotte?" He had dispensed with the formalities the moment he stepped into her room.

"Charles, I needed to atone for my sins." She was sitting by her dressing table. She was at that moment a bit afraid of him. Never had she seen him so angry.

"All you've done is to confess them. In no way have you done anything to atone for them." he flamed at her.

Charlotte felt as if he had slapped her across the face. "I thought…" She looked at him imploringly. She could not voice her desire.

"If you think that we might start living as husband and wife again," he said reading her mind, "you had better think again."

"Why?" she said standing up and walking towards him.

"Why?" He backed away, "Because you've had a husband for forty years, Charlotte, and I'm not talking about me."

"Just because I've lived with him…"

He held up his hand to silence her, "Don't cheapen everything by making as if it was nothing."

She was silent. He heaved a sigh and looked at her intently. How could he have been so blind all these years, he wondered. How could he have pined for a woman that was never his, all the while being blind to the one he did have.

"Charles, I am..."

"Charlotte," he said coldly, cutting her off, "God knows I'm not liberal, Mrs. Hughes would be able to tell you that, but even I know that a marriage is not just two signatures on a piece of paper. It's built on something more than that. Your husband has shared your life for decades."

"He is a very hard man, Charles."

"Hard or not, he deserves more respect than you are giving him now."

She thought for a moment, the most painful question hanging in the air. She was going to see Dr. Clarkson again tomorrow and whatever the outcome of the test, she had to know how to proceed.

Before she could ask it, he talked again, his voice measured anguish.

"Charlotte, you have always been selfish, you know. I mean, you have just told me that not only did I have a daughter, but that I've also lost her. You've dealt me a blow that no man should be dealt, without giving me anything to heal it."

"You have a granddaughter." she breathed. She was not blind to her selfishness, she just didn't know how to handle this panic inside her.

"One that you would most likely take away from me when you leave in a few days."

"Yes."

"I don't have anything else to say to you." He turned around and opened the door to leave.

"What are the chances of ever loving me again?" she whispered.

"Charlotte, you must believe me that I don't hate you. You and I have different lives, and by the looks of it, we've not been leading them as we should. It's time that we learn to love the people infront of us."

"Have you ever told her?" Charlotte asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No," he sighed, "Thank God."

"Why?!"

"Because I would never forgive myself if I had made a dishonest woman out of her. And now, thanks to you I would never be able to tell her."

The pain that she saw in his eyes convinced her that her own endeavours were futile. She was never getting him back. She laughed sadly. "It's funny, I have the signatures, but not the marriage, you have a marriage, but no signatures."

He only looked at her briefly before walking out. His could not see his way out of the mess that his life has become.


	14. Chapter 14

"I'm afraid, Lady Salisbury, that my suspicions were right. You have…" Dr. Clarkson said when they were both seated.

She waved her hand for silence. "I know what you are going to say, Dr. Clarkson. I'm not asking for a miracle. I'm too old for that. All I am asking is whether you can…" she thinks for a moment, "stay the hands of time a little?"

He is slightly unnerved by her piercing stare and the nonchalant way in which she approached the subject. He did not know what to say. He could not very well tell her that she had about three months to live, five if she was careful with her health.

"Oh, come now, Doctor. Now is not the time to spare my feelings. I cannot act intelligently if you do not give me all the facts." She got up and went to stand by the window, hands folded behind her back. He went to stand next to him and held her x-rays to the light.

"See these dark patches? This is the decease."

Her green eyes were transfixed. "It looks like my lungs are riddled with it." That was more of a resigned statement than a question.

"It is very aggressive." He put down the sheet and looked at her. For the first time he could see fear in her eyes and then just as quickly it disappeared.

"Is it contagious?"  
"Not if you drink everything I give you, but for safety's sake, please stay as far away from everyone as possible. I'll tell Mrs. Crawley about your condition, if you'll permit me."

She nodded. "So? How much time can you buy me, Doctor? And please don't sugar-coat it."

"As it is now, you have about two months; you will experience more and more symptoms like coughing blood and more severe night sweats and such. You may lose your appetite, so you will lose quite a bit of weight. With treatment I am rather sure we can extend your life to four or five months."

She took a deep breath and this time she could not hide the fear. "Is that a promise, Doctor?"

"I will try my best, Milady, but the success of it depends on how determined you are."

"Determination is about all I have left, Dr. Clarkson. I still have unfinished business…" She trailed off and stared out the window.

"Well then, Milady, the first order of business is to get you to the sanatorium."

"No!" Her voice was harsh.

"Lady Salisbury, you're chances of a longer life will be greatly diminished if you don't go."

"Dr. Clarkson, I have things that need seeing to and I cannot do it cooped up in a sanatorium. I will not go, so you'll have to think of another plan."

"Very well, Milady, I will order the medicine from York and I suppose you can stay at Downton or Crawley House until…until the end."

"No. I'm returning to London in two days."

"London will be a death sentence in your condition."

"I have no choice, Doctor. The only life I have is there, with my…husband."

"But you can recuperate here, or in Devonshire."

"No buts, Doctor. I need to be back at home as soon as possible."

"Very well, I have a friend at St. Catherine's who would be able to help you."

"Thank you Doctor."

"I'll make sure you have the medicine before you leave."

* * *

"But why do you need to leave?" asked Mrs. Patmore, slightly hysterical

"We both know why." Mrs. Hughes said.

"I don't see any reason for you to leave. You've done nothing wrong."

"I know that! But it would just be awkward."

"But it's not as if you'll act differently to each other if you stay."

"I know that, but I feel differently, and knowing him, he'll be even worse about being proper and I couldn't take that."

"It just kills me…" said Mrs. Patmore irritably.

"No more than it kills me, Mrs. Patmore." Mrs. Hughes had decided that it was time for her to retire. She had written to her sister the day after Lady Salisbury had told her about Mr. Carson and she had received a heartfelt letter from Margaret telling her that she would be welcome to come and stay with them.

* * *

"Edith, dear" said Lady Salisbury, "I can't thank you enough for taking such good care of me for these few weeks."

"It was such a pleasure, you're welcome back anytime."

"It's time I went back home, I think," she looked at Tom, who stood next to Edith. "You had better take care of her."

"I will," Tom said and briefly squeezed Edith's hand.

"Well, I had better get Adara, otherwise we'll be late.

Lilith was talking to Thomas, who looked very much like crying. "Thomas, I'm so very grateful for you." She touched his cheek briefly. He only smiled.

She then turned to Mrs. Hughes who was standing a bit away from the others. "Mrs. Hughes," she whispered, "I had hoped you would be able to take care of Mr. Carson."

"I'm still here until December, Milady. I'll look well after everyone until then."

"That's good to hear." She turned away from the housekeeper to the butler.

"Mr. Carson," she said with a tremor in her voice, "I'll miss you terribly."

"And I you, Milady."

"Oh," she said hugging him briefly, "Please, don't say 'Milady'. Just Adara, or Lilith."

"You'll always be my Lilith." He whispered. She fled to the car. Crying in front of him was not going to help the situation.


	15. Chapter 15: December, 1922

_I thought it only right to add this little note of thanks to all of you who have read this. Thanks for all the help and the reviews and the favourites. Hope you enjoy this last chapter._

* * *

"It's going to be a cold Christmas." said Alfred at the breakfast table.

"Quite obviously," said Thomas.

"Mrs. Hughes, I'm glad that you are still here for Christmas." said Alfred again.

She only smiled. Mr. Carson sat mutely by her side. Over the past few months their relationship had taken quite a back slide. No longer did he come to her for sherries and cups of tea and she only went into his pantry once or twice. They still talked, but only of work. With every passing day she was becoming more relieved that she was leaving. She felt like an empty shell.

He on the other hand was barely keeping his emotions in check. The past few months have been a mirror image of what he imagined hell to be. He had only once heard from Lilith to tell him that she and her grandmother had arrived safely in London. Since then she has not called again. He sighed. The bell for the backdoor rang, "Alfred, would you get that." A moment later the telephone rang.

"Hallo, Mr. Carson speaking."

"Mr. Carson, it's Lilith."

"Lilith!" His heart pounded at the sound of her voice.

"Mr. Carson…" he could hear that she was trying not to cry and that she had been crying.

"What's wrong? What happened?" he asked panic rising in him.

"She's gone, Mr. Carson…" Lilith controlled another sob.

"What? Who?"

"Granny."

Mr. Carson's heart stopped beating a moment. "What do you mean, she's gone."

"She was very ill, Mr. Carson. She had tuberculosis."

"What?" he whispered as he slumped into his chair.

"She did not want to let anyone know."

He did not say anything. What could he say? It was another blow, he had had quite a few too many these past few months.

"I wanted to tell you, but she forbade me to say anything. Only grandpapa and I knew, and Dr. Clarkson." After a minute of silence she added, "I have to go now. Grandpapa is inconsolable."

Mr. Carson put down the phone and walked back to the table. "Mrs. Hughes, I need to talk to you, when you have a minute." he said and then walked back into his pantry.

She followed immediately and found him behind his desk, with his head on his arms. She ran to him then. "What happened?" she asked panicking.

"Charlotte passed away this morning."

Mrs. Hughes had to prop herself up against the table. "What do you mean?"

He straightened and looked up at her. "She had tuberculosis."

"I am so sorry." whispered Mrs. Hughes, shaking her head and against her better judgment, she stoked his face. He looked at her and put his hand on hers.

"Oh, Mr. Carson…" She bent down and kissed him on his forehead. All she wanted to do was hold him and comfort him. When she tried to straighten up he resisted. "Elsie…" The use of her name sent a shiver down her spine. She saw the pain and intensity in his eyes and it made her come to her senses. She could not complicate things for a grieving man. She pulled away with force.

"Would you like me to tell the servants?"

He stared at her, even more broken than before. "Yes, I think it best."

* * *

"Good Lord, can't this house be spared one more death!" The Dowager has been on a rampage for the last week; ever since they read the papers and Mrs. Hughes had informed them of Lady Salisbury's death. "We've lost more people after the war than during it."

"Calm, yourself, Cousin Violet," said Isobel.

"Mary, how is Carson?" asked her mother in an attempt to restore peace.

"I don't know." Mary said with a worried expression on her face. "I imagine his not doing well, and now with Mrs. Hughes leaving in a couple of days… I'll have a talk with him."

* * *

Mary found him in his pantry. "May I come in, Carson?"

"Certainly, Milady," he said standing up.

He held a chair for her. "How are you, Carson?" she asked sitting down.

He smiled sadly. "As well as can be expected, Milady."

"That's not very well, then, is it?" She asked watching him intently.

"No, Milady, it seems that I am losing all the women I ever cared about."

"Lilith, Lady Salisbury and Mrs. Hughes?"

He started at this, but said nothing.

"Carson, I'm going to be frank with you…may I?"

"Yes, of course, Milady."

"You once gave me the advice to tell Mr. Crawley what was in my heart. Don't you think it's time you followed your own advice?"

"I'm not sure it would be proper."

She snorted at this, "Carson, listen to me," she took his hand to emphasise her words. "If you don't tell her the truth, now, nothing will ever be proper again..."

"MR. CARSON!" Thomas burst into his pantry without a knock. Both Mary and Carson jumped up.

"What the devil!" shouted Mr. Carson.

"It's Lilith!" Thomas shouted and beckoning for them to come.

"What?!"

"She's outside."

Mr. Carson was out of the office so fast that he almost knocked Mary off balance. She followed at equal speed.

"What's going on?" said Mrs. Hughes as they all sped past her in the corridor.

"It's Lilith!" shouted Thomas from the front.

They could see Lilith coming through the arch that led to the courtyard as they came running out.

Mr. Carson walked a few paces towards her and stopped, not sure what he should do.

Lilith walked straight into his arms and folded hers around him. "Grandfather…" she said sobbing.

He only held her tightly and then after a few minutes she let go. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to be with family, Mr. Carson." she said.

"What about your grandfather, Lord Salisbury?" He could hardly believe that she was standing in front of him.

"He gave me leave to come, Mr. Carson. My brother is with him. I wanted to give you this personally."

She pulled out a letter from her pocket. "My grandfather gave it to me the day after the funeral."

"What is it?" He asked taking it gingerly.

"It's a letter from my mother to you."

* * *

He had read the letter five times already. She had been on her way to see him when her train was bombed in Paris. There was a knock at the door.

"May I come in, Mr. Carson," Mrs. Hughes asked tentatively from the door, she knew he wanted time to think after Lilith had returned. "Mr. Carson, are you quite alright?" she asked with a worried voice as she shut the door behind her.

Only then did he realize he was crying. "It's all right, Mrs. Hughes." he said wiping his cheeks.

She hesitated at the edge of his desk, "What happened?"

"Closure."

"Excuse me?"

"This is a letter from my daughter, Catherine." He held out the letter for her to take.

She took it hesitantly.

"Come here, Mrs. Hughes," He stood up and showed her to the settee. He sat beside her, "Please read the letter," he said after she only sat with it in her hand.

"I can't do that."

"I don't want any secrets from you, Mrs. Hughes."

She could not deny him. He looked so lost.

She unfolded the letter…

_15 November 1916_

_Dear Mr. Carson_

_I don't know where to start, but it doesn't really matter as it will change both our lives anyway, no matter where I start. I don't know if you know about me or not, but in either case, I'd like to introduce myself._

_My name is Catherine Talbot Rhys. I am the daughter of Lady Charlotte Cavendish. No doubt you haven't heard her name in many, many years. For thirty-seven years I believed that I was the daughter of Harold Cavendish as well, but I've recently found out that I am not. The truth, I believe, is that I am your daughter._

_Mr. Carson, I don't know how much my mother has revealed to you or if, in fact, she has kept you in the dark about everything. More likely than not it is the latter and not the former. If you have strength to read further, please let me explain the situation as far as I understand it. _

_I have heard your name sporadically over the years. Mama sometimes had dreams, and she was once quite stricken with scarlet fever, which made her talk in her sleep even more. She always cried out for "Charles" and asked him to rescue her. I never asked her after this, because I was used to Mama having secrets._

_Then, a few months ago, when I was stationed in France (I'm a nurse), I treated one of your footman, a Mr. Barrow. He was a strange fellow, but I suppose we got on well. He liked to talk of home, of Downton and of all the people he worked with there. Your name was mentioned quite often, sometimes with good intentions, sometimes not. Anyway, after I had a particularly feisty row with one of the nurses he said that I reminded him quite a bit of you and that I actually looked like you. _

_Now, growing up I had always wondered about my appearance because I had very little of Mama in me, except perhaps her length, but I had even less of Papa in me. I can't explain it, but I never felt like I belonged with him._

_After Mr. Barrow returned home, I still thought about it. We certainly seemed to have a lot more in common, you and I, than I had with the rest of my family._

_Then one night we found a baby in the hospital foyer. It made me sad to think that the child will never know his parents. I suppose my feeling of not belonging spurred me to investigate. Something about you just tickled my fancy, I just didn't know what._

_I took me a few months. After writing to hospitals and doctors, I found out that I had not been born a month early than the doctor had originally told my parents, but that I was on time, which means that Mama had to have been pregnant with me before she married Papa. I wrote to the doctor that had delivered me and he told me the truth, or as much of it as he knew._

_Mr. Carson, I would very much like to hear your side of the story. I am deeply grieved by the knowledge that I was the reason that she left you, that she married another man. That is the only reason why she would have done such a terrible thing._

_I pray that this finds you well and that, after the shock that this letter undoubtedly will cause you, that you will consent to meet me._

_I am in Paris now. I'm leaving Paris on the 15:15 train from Gare de l'Est. I'm going to post this at the train station and I will write again once I am in London. Hopefully by then you'd want to see me._

_Yours always,_

_Catherine_

Mrs. Hughes folded the letter and handed it back to him. She was crying as well. "Mr. Carson, I have no words…"

"What can be said, Mrs. Hughes. I had a daughter and she died. I don't think she even had time to post this letter. Thank God."

"Why do you say that, Mr. Carson?"

"Because, if she had, it might have reached me, and I would have found out that she had died then…I don't think I would have able to handle that then."

"Perhaps, you are right, at least now you have a grand-daughter." She smiled slightly at this. The servants were all but burning a bonfire at Lilith's return. Surprisingly Lady Grantham too had been beside herself when she saw Lilith. The Dowager almost went apoplectic, but in the end, it was decided that Lilith would stay as a guest until she found a job in the village.

"Yes, I think that is what one calls a silver lining…" Mr. Carson trailed off as he looked at her. He knew why she was here. It was her last night at Downton. In the morning she would go to Scotland, after the family has hosted a goodbye party. Lord Grantham had all but given up on persuading her to stay at Downton.

She sat there and fiddled with her hand. After decades of working with him and talking to him, tonight, on the most important night, she had nothing to say, or not nothing, but just no way in which to express it. Or, she thought again, she _had _ways to express it, but none of them very proper. She mentally shook herself. He had said something about a silver lining, she should respond to that. "In times like these, silver linings are what we live for, I think."

"There is still one cloud hanging without a silver lining." He said it with hope. He hoped to God that she would catch his drift.

"And what cloud would that be, Mr. Carson?" Her heart started to flutter slightly.

All right, he thought, he has to stop beating around the bush. If this catastrophe has taught him anything, it is to be as honest as possible. "I don't want you to leave Downton, Mrs. Hughes."

His simple, truthful statement made her look up for the first time. He had never before told her so much of the truth so directly.

"My train leaves tomorrow, Mr. Carson…" Please, stop me, she screamed silently to him.

"Mrs. Hughes, please don't think me improper and unfeeling for what I'm about to say," He took her hand, "but I was wondering whether I might come with you?" The words had formed themselves, but speaking them, made him realize that they were true.

"What, to Scotland?" she asked flabbergasted.

"Yes." he nodded with assurance.

"Why?"

"Because I'd rather be there in Scotland with you, than here at Downton without you."

"Oh, Mr. Carson," she said with tears running down her face. She pulled away and went to stand against his desk. "Please, don't make this more difficult than it already is. I've hardly the strength to say goodbye as it is."

"Then don't say goodbye." He got up and went to stand inches from her. He took her face in his hand.

"Elsie, it's not difficult. I love you. I have for more than two decades. Please don't go."

She was heaving with sobs now and could barely speak… "Why…have you…waited… so…so…long?"

"Because I was a fool, too caught up in being proper. But I know now that if I don't ask you to be Mrs. Carson, I'd be improper for the rest of my life."

She started laughing. Never in her life had she felt such joy.

"Do I take it as a yes?" he asked nervously while he wiped the tears from her face.

"Oh, you foolish man, of course it's a 'yes'!" she laughed.

She swore the smile on his face could have provided light for to Abbey for a month. He drew her close to him and held her. After a moment he said, "I've wanted to do this for a very, very long time..." he whispered as he placed a tentative kiss on her hair. Three decades of self-control is hard to break in an instant.

She trailed the lines of his face, his temple, his jawline, his mouth, and then she leaned a bit forward, "We don't have to worry so much about being improper ever again, Mr. Carson."

Her touch had fired up his courage, "Then, I believe that kissing the future Mrs. Carson won't go terrible amiss?"

"Not at all, Charles."

* * *

If Mrs. Patmore had rather looked through the grating than listened, as she was doing at that very moment, she would have seen a kiss that showed the love a true marriage was built on, signatures or not.

* * *

_I hope you all enjoyed reading this. Please let me know what you think. _


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